Scooby Doo Apocalypse
by PuckingGoodfellow
Summary: *Based on the Comic Book Series "Scooby Apocalypse"* Monsters run rampant in this terrifying post-apocalyptic world. Now Scooby and the gang must fight to survive vicious creatures and figure out how the world shattered in the first place... something Dr. Velma Dinkley might know more about than she lets on. Rated T for Language, Action and Romance. Shelma AND Dred!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He sat trembling against the wall. Rifle in hand, blood leaking down his face, he saw nothing beyond his terror.

Velma crouched across the aisle from him, hidden behind a wall of car fragrances.

A yellow-eyed creature slithered down the front of the hardware store just a few aisles down. Its massive size rivaled that of a limousine with scales glossy and serpentine.

Sweat beaded down her face with only one bullet left in her pistol. Bruises emerged beneath her ripped tights after being thrown across the store. But her adrenaline ran too high to register the pain.

Scooby Doo huddled beside Shaggy frightened but not as shell-shocked. He licked Shaggy's hand for some kind of response

"Raggy?" he whispered.

Immediately, Velma shot a finger against her lips.

Scooby's ears drooped guiltily.

Suddenly, the giant snake stopped moving. It flicked its head back.

As it knocked things to the ground, they heard it slither toward them.

She held her breath, the sweat gone cold on her skin. Her heart flogged her ribcage.

Scooby ducked behind Shaggy's legs, shivering.

Its shadow fell on the floor between them.

Shaggy's wide eyes found the image and followed its shape, too afraid now to react anymore. She worried he might be slightly concussed.

 _Where are the others?_ She thought fiercely.

Then its slotted nose crept into view at her knee.

Scooby pulled at Shaggy's flannel to spring him into action. Clumsily, Shaggy tried to get his fingering right on his rifle.

He was good as dead, Velma figured. Scooby knew it too.

Lifting her measly pistol, she knew she only had one chance.

One shot.

If it didn't kill the creature, its fury would be unstoppable, and they would be eaten for sure.

Even then, one loud blast and the hundreds of beasties surrounding the store would flood through.

Releasing a long, slow breath, Velma took one look at the fumbling Shaggy, the petrified Scooby and then the yellow-scaled creature sliding into view.

Hand shaking, she lifted the gun.

Then, after a drooling maw half her size slid past, a huge, yellow eye sighted her. Its pupil dilated. Its muscles flexed.

"Goodnight," she whispered and shot it in the eye.

Greenish blood splashed over them, hot and putrid. She jerked back shielding her face with her arm, the creature hissed and screeched.

She battled her cramped muscles to stand. Still shaking, she climbed over the bleeding creature to Shaggy and Scooby.

"Let's go!" she said knowing time was against them.

Then the giant snake stirred.

She and Scooby glanced back.

"Shaggy," she grabbed his shoulders. "Let's move!"

As if woken, he staggered to his feet.

The half blind and dying creature lodged its massive head after them, but slammed into the wall instead. Its movements were jerky and spastic. It had lost control. But it wasn't any less of a threat.

"RUN!"

Even with green puss and blood oozing from its eye, it pursued them, bits of brain matter spilling with it. It hissed from one side of its face, the other slumped.

They rushed forward, out of the aisles and toward the exit.

But just as soon as they arrived, countless skeletal zombie-like vermin charged through the doorway. They broke through the glass windows and spilled onto the floor.

Velma crashed into Shaggy in her haste to switch direction.

The three of them fled only to meet the back of the store. There was one door: the supply closet. With nowhere else to turn, the three of them scrambled inside and held it shut behind them. Shaggy and Velma leaned against it with all their weight. Scooby barked at the commotion like it would somehow ward the monsters off.

Looking into the darkness of the closet, she figured there had to be a way out.

"Scooby! Find the light!"

He bumbled about and then a few seconds later flicked the switch.

It was a small closet with a mop bucket, a ladder and a dead end.

"Dammit," she growled.

The beasties clobbered against the door, threatening to break it open. Their ravenous voices seeped through the cracks and scraped the air.

Heart pounding louder than ever, she looked up at Shaggy who'd flattened himself to the door, sweat and blood still dripping down his face.

"Any ideas?" she said.

He looked at her like she'd just asked him to solve the problem of world hunger.

"Right," she muttered. _Idiot_.

Still leaning on the shaking door, she checked her pack for the walkie-talkie. Digging it out with trembling hands she hit the "talk" button.

"Come in! Come in! Are you there?" she shouted into it.

Unintelligible static was all that talked back.

Then looking at his rifle hanging uselessly from his shoulder she asked, "How many rounds do you have left?"

He shook his head unknowing.

Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't shot once, have you?"

Shaggy gulped. "Would it have helped?"

Suddenly a claw broke a hole through the door. The wood cracked.

"Zoinks!" Shaggy swatted it.

The creature snarled.

"Oh, forget that!" She grabbed his rifle, stuck its nose through the opening and fired. She couldn't see a thing out the door, but she didn't stop for anything. Hisses and splattered flesh sounded from the outside. Hopefully, this would deter their advancements at the very least.

Though they knew that wasn't likely.

"Here, take this! And don't stop firing!" she said, shoving the gun back into his hands.

"But!"

" _DO IT!_ "

As he fired, she snatched up the walkie-talkie again. "Where are you?"

Suddenly the other end replied in something that almost sounded like words. But it was too fuzzy to make out.

"What was that?"

The gun blasted. Monsters screamed. Scooby swayed frantically.

It was Fred on the line, but that was all she could gather.

"We're trapped! We're trapped! Where are you?" she shouted.

Suddenly, Scooby's hairs bristled as he started growling.

Fred said something she couldn't understand.

Then Shaggy cursed.

A giant, yellow head slammed into the doorway, splitting the wood into halves. It threw them off their feet. They collapsed on top of its slimy, scaly body.

The other monsters only stared for a moment before rushing toward the closet.

Realizing the danger, she battled to regain her footing.

"We have to run!" Velma said.

Shaggy gulped, and then steeled himself. He darted out first, gun blazing. He shot a hole through maybe two or three creatures before they overtook him. There were hundreds of them, skeletal and hideous. Their claws snatched up his gun first before they piled onto him.

"SHAGGY!" Velma shouted. She swung her backpack at one of them, winding it. Then another grabbed her. It yanked her away from Shaggy, its famished, red eyes blaring into her while its mouth opened wide to chomp.

Scooby pounced on it, biting into its neck. He brought it down, but there were still countless more to come.

And then they were defenseless against the horde of storming zombies.

Suddenly, a bright light tore through the building. The glass walls shattered and something more monstrous than anything rammed screeching into the horde.

Velma and Scooby tried to shield themselves. Now waiting to die, they instead heard gunshots.

The screech of a car horn.

She and Scooby looked up to see a smoking armored vehicle decked in orange spray paint.

The driver's window rolled down.

"Get in, losers!" Daphne shouted from the Mystery Machine.

Fred busted out, blasting lethal shots into the crowd.

She looked and saw Shaggy dragging himself out from under the zombie-pile. The creatures were too busy fighting each other for his flesh to actually eat him.

Rushing to his side, she caught his hands and helped him up.

"Come on! Come on!" Fred shouted, waving them over while he held back the monsters.

Velma, Shaggy and Scooby didn't waste any time. They piled inside. Fred jumped in behind them and slammed the door shut.

"Next stop, freedom!" Daphne said. She slammed on the gas and they shot right out of there.

Collapsed on the floor, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby just panted.

"What the hell took you so long?" Velma asked.

"You think we didn't run into any problems of our own?" Daphne asked. She might've sounded more bitter if she wasn't so high on adrenaline. She was practically soaring at this point.

"We had to race some beasts to the van," said Fred. "It wasn't pretty."

Thinking of _pretty_ , she thought of the monster snake she blasted. Its innards had stained her from orange blouse to brown boots. The stuff reeked.

"Well like, thanks," said Shaggy, "Whatever the case." He sat up against the wall and let his head fall back. The blood smeared down his neck and his shirt had darkened with sweat. Scooby plopped over his lap.

Velma looked at them and the walls of the heavily fortified vehicle.

 _We survived_ , she thought incredulously. _At least for another day_.

The Mystery Machine was quiet now. Parked in an abandoned field the following night, the only sound came from crickets spread thin in the vast expanse of rotting corn stocks. Velma sat outside on a tree stump hoping the greenish monster guts from their latest supply raid would wash out of her skirt. With a gun by her side, she guarded the van of sleeping survivors.

Eight weeks and three days had passed since the dawning of what she and the gang morbidly titled the "apocalypse."

Coincidentally locked in an underground "safe zone" at the time it hit, she and four others were spared being mutated by airborne Nanites… as well as being eaten.

Together they escaped Velma's laboratory complex and the desert city entirely filled with monsters – monsters that were once their co-workers, their friends – and drove out into the middle of the country looking for answers.

Of those, there were few.

For weeks fighting to survive in a monster infested new world, they tossed around theories about how millions of people transformed into savage beasts in a matter of seconds.

The gang settled on Velma's theory that talked of a project called _Elysium_. In her research lab somewhere in underground Nevada, she worked under four reclusive scientists working with Nanites for this project. The tiny mechanisms were structured to permeate the globe to eliminate the base, violent instincts of humankind.

Somehow the heavily safeguarded Nanites were activated with slightly altered results. Only Velma and the other scientists had access to the activation code with multiple security measures to prevent accidental triggering. So Velma said she believed these scientists called the Four altered the Nanite behavior behind her back in order to turn an entire world into controllable slaves. And then activated them. Though, she still wondered when the "controllable slaves" were confused with raving comic-book-like monsters.

Some members of the gang, however, specifically a red-haired investigative journalist, found her story a little unbelievable. Daphne, the journalist, was convinced there was more to it than Dr. Dinkley was saying. But after all these weeks, nothing more had surfaced. So they stuck to her story.

Sorely, Velma wished it were the _whole_ story.

Then, something shifted in the distance.

She shot up.

 _Monsters beware_ , she thought as her "survival mode" kicked in. She eyed the perimeter ready to kill.

She aimed her gun. One shot would wake the gang. Another would send hordes of monsters racing in their direction.

But when she noticed the motion again, she realized it was just a jackrabbit.

A stream of curses rolled out as she dropped back onto the stump.

"Damn, I'm a mess." Running a strained hand through her hair, she gulped hard wondering how she ended up as the crazy scientist that accidentally destroyed the world. As her head fell back in her self-loathing, the van door suddenly whined open.

She shot a glance so fast she made Shaggy flinch.

"Whoa, it's just me, man!" he said, throwing up his hands. The door of the Mystery Machine clicked shut behind him. His name was actually Norville Rogers. He'd worked at the same lab as her except he only trained "Smart Dogs," canines specially trained and enabled by technology to speak and fight for the military. From casual observations she learned he was skilled with animals, but his intellect only went so far.

He was too tall and lanky, sporting tattoos, an ironic mustache and beard. His sandy brown hair constantly fell into his face and all he talked about was food. But he was harmless as far as she could tell.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

He shrugged and checked his watch; "It's like a quarter after midnight. My shift's about to start."

"Not for another twenty-five minutes."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah but I can't sleep." Without much ado, he plopped down on the stump beside her and stuck his rifle in the dirt. She took a quick glance at the bandage taped to the side of his head. Then inched away.

She didn't appreciate the close proximity, even if there was room enough for another body between them.

"Well I'm not cutting my watch short so you might as well wait inside," she said.

"It's cooler out here. Plus, like, Daphne snores. Twice I woke up thinking we were under attack. She's worse than my grandma."

"Your grandma snores?"

"No, I thought she was going to attack me! Her lazy eye followed me around whenever I didn't eat her spinach and bean puffs." He shuddered. "It staid open when she slept."

Velma grimaced. "Fascinating."

"But like, all that's in the past now."

"When did she pass?"

"She's not dead! Not that we know for sure. She just got an eye patch and discovered the wonderful gift that is pizza." He grinned.

She looked him over critically. "Don't you think about anything other than food?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be this calm?" he asked with a twitch in his eye.

"Says the guy who thinks Daphne the snore-monster is out to get him."

He slouched and folded his hands between his knees. "It doesn't fix everything."

She caught sight of his sunken profile and felt the disturbance of guilt settle in. He was perhaps the least capable of survival between the five of them: too soft spirited, too easily frightened and dangerously trusting. Also, his coping mechanism by obsessing over food was a weak one, since food was scarce. The morbid thought crept in that it would've been better if he hadn't been spared by the Nanites at all.

And yet, here he was, vulnerable from every angle and completely unaffected by the Nanites. At least he was a fast runner.

The guilt wasn't going away, so she tried to distract herself by calculating the approximate time it would take for a horde of creatures to reach them before falling in range…

"Man, this cornfield's _creepy_ ," said Shaggy.

Her mathematical efforts shattered. "Must you talk?"

"What else is there to do?"

" _Keep watch_."

"Even cops on a stakeout bring like doughnuts and talk about ball games," he said. Then with a sigh of longing he uttered, "Doughnuts."

"We're not cops, Shaggy. We're stranded survivors, completely alone and unprotected. If some vampire comes snooping around because he heard your incessant lip smacking, I will see to it that you are his first victim."

"Yikes, a little fired up, are we?"

She dropped her face in her hands, a rush of resentment punching her in the jaw. "Just stop talking."

 _This is going to be a very long apocalypse_ , she thought.

The next day began with gray skies and unease. Rain threatened to fall for hours, but the clouds just remained lumpy and dark. Also, they hadn't come across any ruins this far out in the Midwest. There was barely anything but the occasional phone tower and endless stretches of flat earth. No ruins meant no people, and no people meant no monsters.

"Could we be so foolish as to assume we might actually be safe out here?" Daphne asked.

"Safe from everything but starvation," Velma said, pragmatic as ever.

"Oh man," Shaggy groaned and Scooby whimpered next to him. "I knew it would end this way."

"C'mon, Shag," said Fred. "We're not gonna die out here."

"No, but maybe something will catch us a little later on and eat us all for dinner!"

"Or runch," said Scooby.

"Right, or lunch."

"Or reakfrast."

Shaggy scratched his bearded chin, "Yeah or breakfast too. I guess it depends on which time of the day we're caught and killed."

Velma felt her eyes roll and noticed Daphne looked just as annoyed.

"According to this map," Velma said, "we should be at the next town by nightfall. Hopefully we can stock up there."

"Hopefully. Hear that, Scoob? She said 'hopefully'."

"Rounds more rike _never_."

"Yeah like _hopefully_ we'll find food."

" _Ropefully_ we'll rind rafety!"

" _Hopefully_ we won't get ripped to shreds by the next mutated scary-faced monster with horns and…!"

"All _right_!" Fred snapped. "We get it. It looks bad."

"Bad?"

"Terrible. Hopeless. Infuriating." Fred corrected. "But we're gonna keep trying anyway. You know why? Because we might be all that remains of the human race. And so long as we're alive, it's up to us to solve this mystery and save these people from living out the rest of their lives as flesh-eating mutants! And we'll keep searching for clues even if it kills us."

The van went quiet with a sense of awe for a complete second.

"If it _rills_ us, Reddy?" Scooby asked, narrowing his brown eyes.

Daphne groaned.

"Yes. Now just keep driving, Shag. We'll get through this or my name isn't Fred Jones! And it is."

Shaggy looked at Scooby then glanced over his shoulder at the gang. "All right, Fred. If you say so."

After all these weeks, Velma was still adjusting to this "gang" she now travelled with across the country.

Some of them met in her underground laboratory that was actually part of an enormous testing facility. Velma, a high-ranking scientist, had called in a favor from a washed-up news reporter to expose a devious scheme she believed her superiors were secretly developing. Before any such story could be covered, the "apocalypse" hit and she and the other people coincidentally locked with her in the "safe zone" were spared the mutation.

Daphne was a young, gorgeous rich girl that abandoned the usual Blake Family tradition of inheriting billions and living in luxury to instead become an investigative journalist. She started her own show trying to bust abusive business owners taking advantage of their employees and customers. It flopped.

Fred Jones was her ever-devoted camera guy, a guy from a suburban town in New England. He'd studied mechanical engineering in college but never took a job in his field. Instead, he followed Daphne to the ends of the world without question.

He even followed her to the deepest lairs of Velma's laboratory after she'd called in Daphne to uncover the seedy plotting of the Four. A plot that went horribly wrong.

Scooby was a failed Smart Dog on the upper levels of the facility, and the first experiment in a military program to raise intelligent canines. He wore headgear that helped him to talk, though he had a speech impediment. And as far as following orders, he wasn't much of a fighter. He just wanted to love everyone and eat pizza with his best pal, which needless to say was not the intention of a military-funded project.

He was almost euthanized by the project managers, but Shaggy, a new Smart Dog Trainer at the time, wouldn't have it. So he looked after the dog himself to be sure Scooby could prove his worth to the more elite experiments. Ever since, the two had been inseparable.

Even now, eight weeks into the apocalypse.

It was Scooby that followed Velma underground after she'd called on Daphne and Fred. He'd received an alert from his headgear that she was in danger when Fred accidentally hit her with his camera. And Shaggy inevitably chased after him.

And so here they were. Which would be fine and all, if Daphne didn't suspect Velma as one of the scientists responsible for the activation of the Nanites… and if Velma actually was as innocent as she led them to believe.

But that was just one of the ruts in their budding friendship.

The tiny town of Dangsville finally rolled into view just as the clouds began to open up. A light sprinkle scattered across the windshield and glossed over the roads with a gray sheen. Shaggy parked in the abandoned gas station where a light still flickered overhead.

With their guns and flashlights ready, they each stepped out of the vehicle.

Waiting in the silence, Velma doubted a graveyard could be any quieter. With the weak pitter-patter of rain droplets, the world was void of sound, and therefore life.

"All right, gang. Let's split up," Fred decided. "Shaggy, Velma and Scooby, you check across the street and see if there's anything salvageable at the food mart. Daphne and I will see what kind of goods we can find for the Mystery Machine here since the last trip didn't go as planned."

"That's an understatement." Shaggy muttered.

Fred ignored him. "Got it?"

"Are you sure I wouldn't be better off helping you take care of this machine?" Velma asked. "I know a thing or two about… mechanics." She pushed up her glasses.

Daphne haughtily placed her hands on her hips, her green bandana revealing nothing but her narrowed eyes. "I've worked on plenty of my daddy's vehicles, including his tanks. I just need Freddy to lift the heavy stuff. We're fine."

A heated silence fell between them.

"Um, like great," Shaggy broke in. "Well, we better go see what grub we can find."

"Roh boy!" Scooby said, wagging his tail. He bounded after Shaggy with his tongue flapping over his lips.

Stuffing her annoyance deep down inside her, Velma shoved her hands in her pockets and trudged after Shaggy and Scooby.

The food mart was a mess. Shelves toppled over each other and completely smothered most of the aisles. The air stunk of rotten food. Velma tied her neck scarf around her face to keep from getting sick.

Scooby and Shaggy sniffed the place without any problems. Apparently the suffocating stink didn't seem to bother them. She was more disturbed than impressed.

"Sense anything, Scoob?"

Scooby sniffed a little longer. "Reah!" With an excited jolt, he chased after the scent of choice.

"I'm right behind ya, buddy!" Shaggy called, shining his flashlight ahead of them.

"Guys!" Velma called. "There could be monsters in earshot! Keep it down!" But it was hopeless. By the time she caught up to them, after nearly twisting her ankles on so many broken cans of pea soup and stepping over the nauseating pounds of rotten meat, she found the joyful pair breaking into a box of Twinkies.

"Like," Shaggy said with a stuffed mouth. "It doesn't get any better than this!" Then he laughed while he tossed Scooby another Tasty Cake.

"That's depressing," Velma said thinking how their lives paled in comparison to chewing on a Twinkie.

Then something flew at her. When she picked it up, she noticed a tightly sealed honey cake and grimaced.

"Really?"

Shaggy got up from the ground and stepped over to her. He was still licking the sticky treat off his fingers. "Like, there's plenty more."

"I think we're going to require something more substantial than _Hostess_."

"Rike ramburgers!" said Scooby, still chomping on something chocolaty.

"And frozen pizza!"

She tossed the honey cake behind her. "Granola bars. Canned vegetables. Nuts. We need nutritional food that lasts. Who knows when we'll be able to stock up again?"

Shaggy shrugged, "Guess you're right. Scooby, why don't you grab a cart?"

"OK, Raggy!" he said and was off.

As soon as Scooby disappeared, she felt Shaggy's eyes on her. He was rarely so direct.

"What?" she asked.

"Like, is there something bitin' at you, Velmster?"

"Excuse me?"

"You seem… short. And I'm not talkin' about your midget status."

"Oh, it's nothing," she said. "Just the fact that our lives are constantly in danger and all you two seem to do is fool around. This is serious. We don't have time for sweet cakes and marshmallows."

His eyes widened, "I totally forgot about marshmallows."

She groaned. " _That_ is what I'm talking about!"

"Relax, Velmster…"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Sorry," he said. When she seemed less likely to strike him, he went on. "Look. I'm scared too, man. I mean, in all a matter of ten seconds, the five of us were thrown into a war zone full of monsters. And I'm the kinda guy that can barely pick up a virtual gun, forget a real one. I'd rather just whack things or whatever," he said, holding up his rifle. "But if I focus on my fear all the time, well… I'll kinda just fall apart."

 _It wasn't just fear_ , her angry thoughts rang. But she had to swallow these feelings. She had to… "It's different for you!" she blurted. The pain burst out. Suddenly, the unfamiliar moisture in her eyes clouded her sight. Her entire face felt hot. "I'm probably responsible for these mutations! I mean…" she stopped herself, realizing what she was about to reveal. He couldn't know the truth. No one could. She had to think quickly. "I should have figured out what the Four were up to and stopped them sooner! Now the world is all but destroyed and it's," she sniffled, "It's my fault." Her tears felt like a lie. The same turmoil continued to swirl around in agonizing circles leaving her breathless and empty.

The next thing she noticed was Shaggy trying to blot out her tears with his sleeves. He was doing an awkward job of it, swiping at her face and bumping her glasses.

"Like, even if this is somehow your fault even a little bit," he said, "You're still trying to fix it. And that's a pretty brave thing to do."

She pushed his hands away to readjust her glasses. "You think so?"

Shaggy pushed back his hair, "Yeah, man. You're doin' OK."

 _CRASH!_

Something huge dropped from the ceiling.

Shaggy and Velma whipped around to find a hunch-backed, drooling werewolf with claws the size of her head. It crouched on the top of the shelves with hunger bleeding from its eyes.

Velma held her breath.

Then Shaggy grabbed her hand. "Like, run!"

They took off like a pair of bullets, she the slower one tripping over broken bottles of cooking oil.

"SCOOBY DOO!" Shaggy shouted as they ran. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

They heard a bark from across the store. Just as they started in that direction, a mighty claw ripped off the shelves by their heads. The nails tore through the cheap metalwork like it was nothing.

"Zoinks!"

They rushed off in the opposite direction.

After seconds of thoughtless panic, Velma began formulating words. "Shaggy! There's only one! We can shoot it!"

"Like no time, man!" Shaggy said, still pulling her along.

Its pursuing claws slashed inches from her legs. Its breath poured hot air over their backsides.

Determined to fight back, Velma searched herself for her pistol with her free hand. But with running so hard she could hardly find it. It took flailing down another whole aisle before she felt its handle. It jostled around as Shaggy yanked her around the corner into the next one.

"Slow down!"

"Like, not a chance!"

Desperate, she finally caught the gun and wrenched it free.

But then, the werewolf clawed her ankle. A sharp sting shot a charge of pain up her leg as she crashed to the ground. Her hand ripped out of Shaggy's.

"Jinkies!" she yelped, as it weighed down on her legs. She stared up at the hideous mouth opening above her. Saliva poured over her like rain while yellowed teeth gleamed with pride. Her gun had flung out of reach. Its mouth rushed down. She held her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Jeepers, I wonder what's taking them so long," Daphne said as she shut the hood of the Mystery Machine. She wiped her oil-stained hands on an old towel they found in the gas station's garage.

"Maybe they found a good haul," Fred said.

She crossed her arms. "You're such an optimist."

He half grinned, "I try to be."

Daphne caught another glimpse of an old Cobra Mustang with racing stripes. It seemed to have been worked on recently, the roof raised to fit a 20-foot man, giving it a clownish look. She wondered if the station's owner was a racer… and a giant.

Regardless, she flung the towel behind her. "And what was with that speech today? 'We'll get through this or my name isn't Fred Jones,'" she said in her best impersonation of him, which was terrible.

Fred blushed. "I don't know, I just, you know, felt it inside."

"Do you think we're going to get through this?"

"Of course we will! Maybe not all in one piece or without a few good scares. But if we want this badly enough and if we really stick together as a team, I don't think there's anything we can't do."

Daphne pondered him, pressing her lips into a thin line. "You seem so different."

"Different? How?"

"More… what's the word… crazy? Confident? I'm not sure."

"Probably both," he said. "I mean, I get how crazy it must be to have any confidence at a time like this. Perhaps Shaggy was right to laugh about something like hope." His head sunk as he loaded the toolbox into the van.

Daphne caught his arm and waited until he turned his eyes to her. "No. At least someone has to believe in us, even if it's only one person. Even if that one person is you, camera-guy."

Fred's face contorted in confusion. "Why?"

"Because we need it… and we want it… even more than we realize. We need you, Freddy. And not just because you can lift the heavy stuff."

He noticed her hand on his arm and tried for a smile. "Thanks, Daph."

Then screams shot out from the food mart. They whipped their heads back.

"Let's go!" she said. Just as she ran around the truck to grab her gun, something crashed to the ground in the garage. She stopped mid-stride. "Freddy?"

He didn't respond.

Something grabbed her from behind.

"Get down!" Fred urged as he rolled them beneath the truck.

Velma couldn't scream fast enough as the werewolf's enormous mouth charged down on her. She shut her eyes and futilely blocked her face with her hands. Just as its teeth brushed her arms, something knocked it off of her.

Shocked, Velma opened her eyes to find the beast sprawled beside her. Scooby had pounced on its head and now tugged viscously on its ear like a chew toy.

The werewolf growled hideously and swatted at the Great Dane. Scooby ducked its swipe, ripping off a piece of its ear. A ferocious roar filled the mart.

Remembering to run, Velma tried to get to her feet. Even as she slipped over the spilled soups and dressings, the hardest part of getting up was the blazing pain in her right ankle. She sucked in a breath and a very bad word.

"Like, c'mon, Velma!" she heard Shaggy's shaky voice as he tried to pull her up. "That wolf's not wearing out any time soon!"

Once she was on her feet, she toppled back down with a stifled scream. "I can't get up, Shaggy," she said, feeling desperate tears leak out of her eyes. She could see the cold fear in his face.

Scooby was all that stood between them and the furious, starving werewolf. Even with his tail tucked between his legs, Scooby still growled in their defense. But his moment of courage would only last so long. He ducked his head lower and lower as he backed further away.

"We have to kill it," said Velma.

"But, like, that's a person!"

"A person that's going to _eat_ us!"

The creature's eyes glowed a sinister yellow as it prowled toward them. Its massive shoulders rolled over its furry back while he pinned his damaged and good ear against his scalp. His gray lips peeled back to expose horrifying rows of teeth.

"We can lose it!" Shaggy said and scooped Velma into his arms. She withheld a shriek. "Scoob, let's scram!"

They darted up the rest of the aisle, the beast at their heels again.

"Shaggy, you can't outrun it!" Velma shouted, clutching desperately to his shoulders.

He didn't say anything. Scooby sprinted on ahead, slipping and sliding over the slick floors. The monster stormed after them in great bounds, knocking things off the shelves, slamming his claws at them, snagging the air at Shaggy's back.

He ran harder.

Suddenly, Scooby took too sharp of a turn, "Rikes!" he yelped. Then he skidded off balance and slid right into a tower of soup cans. He skittered out of the way just before they could crush him.

Shaggy almost wasn't so lucky.

Just as they toppled down, he slipped. Velma flew out of his arms. And then the great pyramid of Chunky Chicken and Noodle Delight collapsed right behind them.

The werewolf howled as the hundreds of soup cans crashed over him like a metallic title wave.

Scooby, Shaggy and Velma slid to a halt as the beast went under. Slumped over in awe, they hardly dared to breathe until the last can fell.

Even then, they barely moved.

Shaggy gulped.

"Is… is he read?" Scooby dared to ask. He and Shaggy exchanged looks.

Velma tried to investigate, but she couldn't even lift her right leg. Underneath the mess of splattered food and sauces, she recognized blood when she saw it. Too concerned with the beast's survival, she merely pressed a hand to the wound with a sharp wince. "Perhaps we shouldn't wait to find out."

Still watching the cans, Scooby and Shaggy got to their feet.

"Like, maybe you're right," said Shaggy as he went to help her up.

Then the cans stirred.

They froze.

"Raggy?" Scooby whimpered.

They started to back away even if there was nothing but wall behind them.

Velma found herself reaching for her pistol, only to remember she'd lost it. "Jinkies." After pushing up her glasses, she dragged herself backwards.

Suddenly, the werewolf sprung forth with a mighty howl. Its claws splayed out, blood spewing from his nose and mouth. Shaggy fell backward.

And then the monster's head blew off. Blood and teeth splattered everywhere with the mighty blast of a gun.

The gang fell in silence again, crumpled together on the ground. Then, once Shaggy could finally use words, he found his smoking rifle in Velma's hands.

Not even her glasses could shield the look of horror that turned her face ashen.

"Like, what did you do?" he asked, his voice weak.

She dropped the weapon like she wanted nothing to do with it. "I…I…" she stuttered, shaking.

No one moved.

Fred and Daphne waited under the Mystery Machine while a pair of feet limped into view. The ratty shoes of what might have been the mechanic's hobbled about, one foot walking while the other dragged behind. The asphalt tore up the leather. Behind them, a similar set of lethargic feet skidded on.

Daphne's green eyes shot at him. "Are you sure those aren't just people?" she whispered.

He could only shake his head as he trained his stare on the surrounding feet. "Not at all," he finally let out. Not until he noticed Daphne reach for something in her coat did he tear his eyes from these slow walkers. Before she could load it, Fred snatched her gun.

Her eyes slashed him with fury. "What are you doing?"

"Not a sound!" he persisted as he brought his finger to his lips.

She looked between these ratty shoes and Fred incredulously. "You think they'll just leave us alone?"

He shrugged completely bewildered.

"Give it back, Fred," she demanded.

He refused.

"We can't just lie around while Shaggy, Velma and Scooby need our help. We've got to get up and take the fight to them."

He kept shaking his head, desperate for her to keep quiet.

"Fred," she whispered forcibly. Too angry to keep talking, she snatched for the gun. "Give it!"

He pulled away.

"Give it back!"

Suddenly, one of the rotting, bony arms of a walker dropped in front of them. The horror choked down their fight.

Daphne and Fred went still as another bony hand reached down to pick it up. They watched the skin-clad fingertips just braze its lost limb, while flaps of torn skin dripping dried flakes of blood and strands of sinews slid down. As it began to curl its skeletal fingers around its wrist, the mechanic's head broke off and smacked down onto the concrete.

Daphne shrieked.

Bulging, rotting eyes stared at them with half a whiskery face, while the other was completely clean of skin. Its split lips spread into a devious smile. And then it moaned.

The two of them scattered out from underneath screaming.

"GET IN! GET IN!" Daphne urged as she jumped into the driver's seat. She slammed and locked the door beside her.

Fred jumped in completely ashen. As she went to start the ignition, she realized she was missing something. "Fred."

"Yeah."

"Where are the keys?"

He paused. Then he patted down his pockets. "Did I give them to you?"

She shot him an "obviously not," look.

"Oh. Right."

As they both looked up, they noticed the keys sitting atop the hood. And standing beyond that was a handful of gas station zombies. They limped toward the vehicle at an elderly pace. But they were close.

"Fred. Hurry up and grab them."

"Me?"

"Yes, you!"

"B-but…"

"You have the gun. You get the key."

"I – I…" he stammered. Then he clamped his jaw shut. With a sudden burst of nerve, he unlocked his door. He looked at her. "Daph. If I don't make it back I just want to say…"

"Just go!" she nearly kicked him.

He jumped out and shut the door behind him. Gun out, he looked back to see the first zombie still trying to reattach his head. Up ahead, the fresh horde was just a breath away from the front wheels.

 _You can do this!_ He told himself.

Watching them, he inched closer to the keys, still gripping Daphne's unloaded gun. His hand shook.

Their dead eyes locked onto him like he was a distant light in a long, dark tunnel. Fingers splayed out they reached for him, moaning. They seemed to be saying something.

Despite their nearly-human attempts at communicating or just trying to growl, Fred inched just in reach of the keys… and then he caught them!

Exuberant, he whipped back around. But the moment he turned his back, they pounced.

A dead weight toppled onto him and he crashed into the concrete. The stinking mouth of a hungry zombie groaned into his ear.  
"MINE!" it seemed to say.

"No!" he shouted, more zombies piling on top of them. "Get off!" But they crushed him. He struggled merely to breathe. Still gripping the keys, he knew he had to get them to Daphne if she and the gang were ever going to make it out alive.

 _They have to make it_ , he thought. Struggling under their building weight, face smushed into the concrete, he couldn't call out to Daphne to take them and run. He couldn't help her.

More of them crushed him against the ground, groaning, smelling of putrid flesh while they lethargically urged him to die. They slowly squeezed the air out of him…

"FREDDY! FREDDY!" Daphne screamed from inside the vehicle, banging on the doors she was trapped in.

 _No_. He thought fiercely. _She has to live_. He clenched his hands into fists. Then, in a wild surge of adrenaline, he pushed himself up and threw the zombies off his back. They scattered around his feet, limbs snapping off and raining to the ground.

Then he lunged for the passenger door, jumped inside and stuck the key into the ignition.

"GO!"

She floored it.

The gang collided inside the Mystery Machine, bloody and bruised but alive.

"Like that was the _worst_ grocery shopping experience of my life!" Shaggy said, while Daphne wrapped up Velma's gory ankle.

"Really?" asked Scooby. "Worse ran the rime they ran out of rizza?"

Shaggy considered this. "Ok, maybe this was the _second_ worst grocery shopping experience of my life. But a very close one."

Fred drove wordlessly into the black and blue horizon while Dangsville faded behind them.

"You must be joking," said Velma.

"It was a pretty traumatic moment in my life," said Shaggy.

"Rine roo!"

"Scoob's too!"

"You don't need stitches," Daphne assessed after she tied up the bandage.

"No, but I might need shots. Or an amputation. Who knows what kind of bacteria that werewolf was carrying?" Velma groused.

"Well if it comes to that, we'll take you out of your misery." She said and offered an unfriendly smirk.

"Thanks."

She plopped down on the stiff bed. There were four beds in the vehicle, each arranged bunk-bed style and nailed to the walls. The ceiling was tall enough to stand under, except for Shaggy, and long enough to fit a seating area behind the drivers, beds, and a trunk portion filled with firearms and other devices.

Half of the vehicle was now filled with the spoils of the food mart. There were bags and cans of goodies… as well as several boxes of Twinkies and marshmallows. Scooby and Shaggy were exceedingly proud of themselves. Velma, with the amount of pain she was feeling, didn't have it in her to be angry with them.

On the contrary, lying there on the bed, she pulled out one of the honey cakes from Shaggy and nibbled on it.

 _I can't believe I'm eating at a time like this_ , she thought to herself morbidly. With her ankle stinging with possible infection, and another human-mutant dead because of her, she had plenty of things to worry about. But instead, she tried to do things Shaggy's way by simply eating her problems.

"This is disgusting," Velma said after her first bite.

"I know!" said Shaggy, delighted. "Like it's great, isn't it?"

Scooby nodded along licking his chops.

She couldn't take either of them seriously.

Daphne, meanwhile, moved to the front of the van and buckled herself into the passenger's seat. She watched Fred through her peripherals for a short while. He didn't say anything.

"Are you doing OK?" she asked him.

His brow scrunched in, "Yeah, I think."

"Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fit as a fiddle," he said, almost surprised, thought he'd scratched his mouth on the asphalt.

She sat back and let her hair down. The red strands fell around her shoulders faintly stinking of car fumes. "I'm sorry I kinda threw you out there to get the keys."

"I'm not mad at you or anything, Daphne," he said. "I'm just a little shocked."

"Shocked… at me?"

"No actually. At myself!"

"What do you mean?"

"I… I _threw_ about a dozen zombies off my back."

"Uh… more like four…"

"I've never felt so empowered!"

"Adrenaline can do some pretty crazy things to you."

"All I know is that now, more than ever, I believe in us. This gang. If I can throw off half a dozen zombies, I can carry us to a solution."

Her brow furrowed, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Freddy. I mean, what you did was definitely heroic. But you're still just one guy. Saving the world is going to take a bit more than that."

He smiled. "We can do it. You'll see."

Freddy decided to drive through the night, too excited to sleep. Daphne tried to stay up with him, though she kept dozing in the passenger's seat. Shaggy and Scooby passed out on the bottom bunk snoring softly. But Velma lay there on her stiff bed, arms crossed, glaring at the empty bunk above her.

It wasn't the pain that made her glare. It wasn't the itchy pink jumper and shorts she sported to escape soiled clothing. And it wasn't even the werewolf that mutated and died because of her. In fact, she didn't know what it was, only that it bothered her stomach, making it jump and rumble. Which ultimately indicated the causation to be emotional, since nothing she'd eaten had caused any such discomfort, not even the honey cake. And if emotion was involved, she knew there was trouble.

Frustrated, she turned over onto her side only vaguely seeing Scooby and Shaggy's images in her impaired vision. Scooby's paws twitched above him while he dreamed.

"Rake rat!" he grumbled, "And rat!"

Shaggy had his arm around him, emblazoned in a sleeve of colorful tattoos. Even wearing her glasses, she didn't know what half of them were. She wondered if he did.

 _How did I get stuck with these people?_ She wondered, _with this Hipster-Beatnik and the failed experimental Smart-dog? Not to mention a rich little hunting princess and her blond, supermodel slave_. But, she was being harsh again and she knew it. _This is why you have no friends_. She rolled onto her other side ignoring the pain in her ankle and stared at the wall.

For the first time in weeks she could finally pretend to be alone. This had never been a problem for her at the lab. The other scientists were even less social than her, and anyone else left her to her work.

But these people… they were in her space. She couldn't breathe a shard of oxygen in solitude. Even when they "split up" she was tossed with the beatnik or the red-headed princess. It made emotions hard to control.

The princess reminded her what that thing called anger felt like.

And the beatnik… well…

She clutched her stomach and curled in on herself. She could hear him snoring into Scooby's furry backside, murmuring something about sponges. There were a million questionable things about that guy, beginning with the word "Zoinks." And yet, her stomach continued to flip this way.

"Nausea," she called it. "Deep, disturbing motion sickness."

With that diagnoses, she tried for sleep. But until the unconscious could grab her, she watched again and again as his flannel sleeve tried to wipe her tears and knocked her glasses off instead.

Clawing his way through the rubble, one small Smart Dog cried out in pain.

"Damn scientists," he said, his headgear flickering. "Everyone dead or mutated. All my mates in shreds… everyone except that stupid weakling, Scooby Doo. Where is that pathetic mutt anyway?" He turned to lick fresh cut on his hind leg. It stung as he lapped it up, trying to staunch the bleeding. "Where's real medical attention when you need it?"

Retraining his attention, he rotated his floppy ears for any signs of danger. Most of it he'd abandoned underground where much of the laboratory had collapsed, crushing the other Smart Dogs.

The desert city was all but in pieces. Monsters feasted on what remained of human life, and the rest was in flames.

There was nothing here for him now.

"I didn't ask for this," he said, kicking the dirt. "I didn't ask to be ripped from my mother's side and to have my puppy-hood robbed of me! The ignorance was better. But now I know things as some military experiment. I _feel_ things. And I am pissed.

"If Scooby wasn't such a failure, I wouldn't have been taken from that farm… taken from my brothers. And when I find that miserable mutt, I'll end him. He will know my pain. And as he dies the last thing he will mutter in his stupid head is my name… Scrappy Doo."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Hold the phone!" Fred's voice woke her up. "Do you see that?"

The passenger seat shifted. "Yeah," said Daphne in a sleepy voice. "Is that…?"

"I think it is!"

Intrigued, Velma reached for her glasses and sat up. Before she could investigate, she caught Shaggy and Scooby snoring away in their bunk, Shaggy completely upside down and Scooby's back foot in his face.

"Neanderthals," she grumbled as she clutched the bedside for support. She bit back the pain in her ankle. "What's going on?"

"Look," said Daphne pointing out the window.

Up ahead was a truck. And it was moving.

Velma adjusted her glasses and grabbing the back of Daphne's seat, leaned forward. "Jinkies," she said.

"Do you suppose they're human?" Daphne dared to ask.

"That depends," said Fred. "Can zombies drive?"

"Or how about werewolves?" threw in Velma.

"You're the expert," said Daphne with noticeable disdain. "You tell us."

She pushed up her glasses. "My studies have barely touched the entire spectrum of possible variances among mutant intelligence levels. It's therefore beyond the realm of prediction to negate the possibility of a mutant operating machinery."

Daphne suppressed a moan as she crossed her arms.

"So… I guess we should investigate?" suggested Fred.

"With much caution," Velma said.

Without prompting, Daphne pulled out a shotgun from under her seat. Then a thought crossed her mind. "Should we wake up those two?"

The three of them glanced back at Shaggy and Scooby, still snoring and muttering things in their sleep.

"Like, that's not my clown suit," Shaggy said in a wheezy voice.

"Negative," Velma decided.

The road thinned between the monstrous-sized vehicles as Fred pressed on the gas. The truck ahead had been spray-painted black with neon-orange zigzags. The shoddy thing looked like the road crew from the Underworld pieced it together, what with its spikes along the perimeters and steer horns shooting out fire.

To add to their suspense, the black truck slowed down.

They'd tinted their windows as dark as possible so the gang could gain nothing from the inside. And there, just a few feet ahead of them now, was the driver's window. Shiny, square and black.

"I'm rolling down my window now," Daphne announced, hitting the button. A gust of morning wind shot in and roared its wild highway greeting. "Hey!" Daphne shouted, waving her hand at the truck.

"Is this our best investigative tactic?" Velma asked.

"Beats me," Fred replied and honked the Mystery Machine's horn.

"What the…?!" Shaggy shouted from the back. Scooby toppled onto the floor. "Like, what's happening?" he sounded panicked.

All too soon, guy and dog flanked her with morning breath and terror.

"Reah! What's rappening?" Scooby asked, paws scattering against the back the driver's seat.

"Unexpected company," Velma explained.

Suddenly, the truck driver's window rolled down. It was a man. Grisly and crater-faced, but a man. His red bandana tied his silvery hair back. Not even his big, black shades could hide his sneer.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked over the roar of the road.

"Oh, uh…" Daphne paused and looked to the gang for an answer.

"Just say your name!" Fred said.

"Oh." She stuck her head back out the window where her red hair swatted her face. "I'm Daphne. What's your name?"

He stuck a toothpick in his mouth and sneered again. "Simon."

"Oh, that's a nice name!"

"Ask him about the mutants!" Velma shouted from behind.

"Simon," Daphne began, "Have you run into any monsters, by any chance?"

"Monsters?" he said, still uninterested in this conversation.

"You know, vampires, zombies, werewolves…"

He hesitated, turning to face the road. "Yeah. I seen 'em."

"Ask him if he's seen other humans," Velma threw in.

"What about humans?" Daphne called out. "Seen any more of them?"

"Besides you kids?" he asked. "Nah." Suddenly, Simon's body began to disappear until all that remained was a floating toothpick. After that faded his entire truck disappeared like mist in the sun, leaving nothing but the blaring sound of a truck horn.

They were alone again on the highway.

"Like, what just happened?" asked Shaggy.

Daphne sat back with her face completely pale as she rolled up her window.

"Velma? Theories?" Fred asked.

"That's a definite negative."

There was nothing but the sound of the road and the Mystery Machine's engine humming smoothly.

"Well, Scoob, time for breakfast," said Shaggy.

After a few hours of driving, Daphne refused to speak or eat. No matter how Fred tried to include her, she couldn't break out of her stupor. Normally, this would relieve Velma. But for some reason, it felt more like those tense moments of silence before a storm.

In the meantime, she sat in the back with Shaggy and Scooby, ignoring their silly antics and struggling to maintain a steady Internet connection on her laptop.

"Come on, work with me!" she demanded. Each of her documented discoveries seemed to formulate some kind of pattern. But without proper research with the World Wide Web to cement those connections, the trail only grew stale.

"Hey Scoob, watch this!" said Shaggy. He threw a peanut at the wall; it bounced off and landed in his mouth. "Pretty cool, right?" he asked with a wide grin.

Scooby tilted his goofy head. "Ret re ry!" he said.

"Like, ok." Shaggy threw another peanut behind him. It hit the wall and bounced off. Scooby jumped and caught it. Satisfied with himself he sat right back down.

"Easy as rie."

Shaggy narrowed his eyes playfully. "Oh yeah? Well how 'bout you catch this!" With a good flick of his wrist, Shaggy tossed the next peanut off the corner of a bed. It bounced and shot across the vehicle, hit the dashboard, soared over Velma's head and plopped right between Scooby's jaws. He chomped it.

"Mmmm!" said Scooby as he wagged his tail.

"OK, hot shot. Try catching…!"

Velma snatched his wrist. "Stop."

He and Scooby shut up almost affronted. But then Shaggy's goofy face started smiling again. "Like, what's your deal, man?"

"Can't you amuse yourselves any other way?"

"If we did, we'd be out of food already."

"How about any _other_ way?"

Shaggy pursed his lips and Scooby scratched himself. "I don't know. Scooby, what do you think?"

"Ruh… amuse? Rhut does 'amuse' mean?"

She shut her laptop in aggravation. "Never mind."

"Fred, pull over." Daphne demanded.

"Yes, Fred, please," added Velma. Then it occurred to her that Daphne had finally spoken.

They parked in the densest wooded area they'd seen in days… as in there were two trees instead of one. A red farmhouse sat further away on a mound too flat to call a hill that overlooked rows of barren fields.

"What is this place?" Fred asked, squinting at the map.

"I don't know. Velma circled it."

"I did?" Velma asked, peaking over Fred's arm. She adjusted her glasses. "Oh. Right. Back at the lab, the scanners picked up a heavy reading of Nanite activity. Though I'm sure they've faded by now. I didn't actually think we needed to stop here…"

Daphne grumbled something under he breath becoming more and more irritable.

"Daphne?" Fred started.

"What is happening to us? Where are we even going?" she asked, mostly speaking to Fred.

 _Meltdown,_ Velma thought. _Figures._ She checked her watch thinking it was about time for one.

"And who said anything about highway ghosts?"

"Is that what that was?" Shaggy asked scratching his beard. Scooby busily sniffed the grassy area, easing his way up to the two standing trees.

"Look, I get that this is all hard to take in but we have a plan." Fred tried to calm her.

"A plan? You mean _Velma's plan_? She's the cause of all this, remember?"

"Whoa," said Shaggy, stepping in. "I thought we settled this."

"Quiet, hippy," Daphne snapped.

He threw up his hands and backed off.

"It doesn't matter who caused this," Fred went on. "We just have to fix it."

" _We_? What if I quit?"

"And do what? Start a new TV show for your audience of monsters?"

"Maybe!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Am I really being the ridiculous one?"

"Yes," Fred, Shaggy and Velma said at once.

She shot them with her vile, green-eyed glare. "Seriously?"

"According to the clues we've collected, the actual operators of this 'plague' I suppose one might call it, are in a safe bunker another few days' drive from here. We break in, get a hold of them, and reverse the effects of the mutations. Problem solved," said Velma. "We just, you know, have to survive up until that point. And, uh, _find_ the bunker." It was the clever plan she'd concocted to keep their suspicions at bay. So far it seemed to work. At least, it worked for everyone except the angry redhead.

Daphne swallowed. "I know the plan, dimwit. I just don't see why it has to be _yours_. And I don't trust your 'research'."

"Well you can check my notes any time you want," said Velma.

"Did we really stop in the middle of nowhere to have this fight? I mean seriously. It's gonna be dark soon," Shaggy complained.

"Who asked you?" Daphne snapped again.

"OK!" Fred interceded. "I think we've all spent a little too much time together in the van. Why don't we just spend the night outside?"

" _Outside_?!" Shaggy and Scooby asked in horror.

"There's a farmhouse not too far from here. Maybe if nobody's there, we can all get a good night's rest where there's plenty of leg room. What do you say to that?"

The farmhouse turned out to be abandoned. Dust covered everything like a light layer of snow. But it was spacious enough for a family of twenty. With her knapsack hanging off a shoulder, her laptop under one arm and her pistol in the other hand, Velma entered the quaint farm home limping. Still reeling a bit from the gang's turmoil, she tried to shrug it off. But she knew that sooner or later they'd uncover the whole truth. She didn't want to think about that day.

The gang had already dispersed to sweep the house for danger. Once they were satisfied it was safe, even in this time of their lives, they mostly kept to themselves. For that, Velma was grateful.

Passing one of the first-floor rooms, she heard Daphne weeping.

"I just," gasp "can't," sniffle "do this anymore."

Fred's voice soothed her. "It's ok, Daph. You'll be all right."

Moving up the creaking stairs at the end of the hall she heard water running.

"Like check this out, Scoob! A hot shower!" Shaggy exclaimed from the bathroom further down.

"Phew! You rink," Scooby said.

"Oh? _I_ stink?"

"Reah."

"Have you sniffed yourself lately?"

"I ron't have ro."

"You don't have to?"

"Rope."

Velma ignored their meaningless back-and-forth and shoved into the next room she found. Anymore Scooby-Shaggy nonsense and she'd completely lose her mind. She fought hard to convince herself that Shaggy wasn't as big of an imbecile as he presented himself to be. But she'd been proven wrong before.

The second-floor room she found looked cozy, if dusty. The dark wooden floors and the cream-colored walls seemed dim compared to the blaring sunset. A full bed sat before her with its cherry-wood headboard set against the wall. A family picture sat on the bedside table with almost a dozen children in the frame.

Sweeping the area with her eyes first, she stepped in further. She dropped her bag and laptop on the bed but kept her pistol.

"Where did they go?" she wondered aloud, thinking about the old inhabitants. If they were monsters it didn't make sense for them to wander off so far. And if they'd been spared… well, why wouldn't they stay?

Even after a second sweep of the room for good measure, looking under the bed, inspecting the hollowness of the walls and the depths of the closet she didn't find any danger. Yet, something seemed off.

"You're still a suspicious empty house," she said aloud. Glad to have put that out into the air, she sat on the bed and opened her laptop. Her injured leg stretched out before her, glad to be elevated, while the other one merely swung off the side of the bed.

Her research swept her up leaving her deaf to the world… that is, deaf to the world except for the commotion in the hallway.

Just outside she heard running feet and a laughing dog.

"Re-hee-hee-hee-hee!"

"Get back here!" Shaggy called after him, followed by the sounds of chaos.

"Ratch me!" Scooby said.

Doors swung open and slammed shut as the weirdos raced all through the upstairs, Shaggy shouting and Scooby laughing excitedly.

Velma paused her research to rub her temples. "Why didn't we find a bigger farmhouse?" she asked with a groan.

Suddenly her door swung open and Scooby came bounding in with a pair of boxers clenched in his teeth.

"Scooby!" Shaggy shouted again, bumbling into the room wearing nothing but a towel. The moment he saw Velma he went crimson. "Like, sorry, Velm!"

But Scooby didn't stop. He leapt around the room until he jumped onto the bed. He nearly bounced Velma right off of it. Then he crouched low challenging Shaggy to take a swipe. His tail swatted Velma.

"Ow!" she hollered sliding off the bed. "What is the matter with you? Get out of here!"

Clutching the towel around his waist with one hand and trying to catch his boxers with the other, he took his stance before Scooby placing all his focus on his next move.

"Like, one second, Velma," said Shaggy.

Scooby growled playfully.

"No. Out. NOW!" She waited by the door.

Shaggy lunged. He'd just caught them but Scooby managed to yank them out of his grip at the last second. Squealing with delight, Scooby bounded out of the room and Velma dodged him just in time. But then Shaggy in reckless pursuit rammed right into her.

"Zoinks!"

"Jinkies!"

They toppled to the ground in the hallway. His landing knocked the wind right out of her.

"Ow!"

When she could catch her breath she felt the anger burn hotter than ever. She never asked for all this noise or monster business or dysfunctional teammates… and she especially didn't need this imbecilic, tattoo-wearing, dog-obsessed and now _naked_ Shaggy crushing her into the floor.

"Get _off!_ "

"S-sorry," he said, his face completely pink. As he struggled to get up without making things worse, his soggy hair dripped in her face.

"And of course you're soaking," she said and fighting to ignore the pair of broad shoulders hovering over her. As his solid chest revealed, he was not as skinny as his goofy shirts alluded. She caught a waft of his musky skin, its hint of pine forest.

"Again, super sorry," he went on finally getting to his feet. He attempted to help her up, but she wouldn't take his hand.

That's when Scooby finally came over, docile now that things seemed to turn a bit wonky.

"Scoob," said Shaggy in a stern voice.

The dog dropped the boxers into his hand.

He snatched them up. Then after pointing a really frustrated finger at him with nothing else to say, he simply whipped around grumbling to himself. He slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Velma glared at the dog too. He flashed his most innocent puppy-dog-eyes in apology.

"Rorry," he said.

"Sorry my ass," she snapped and returned to her room.

It didn't take long to forget the whole ordeal as she jumped right back onto the web and into her research. But every so often, the memory of it would sort of creep into her mind as she tried to focus. She kept seeing Shaggy run in unexpectedly dripping and bare chested.

She blinked it out of mind.

It would let off for a while as she followed another trail of clues… and then she'd feel his damp body on top of her.

"Ugh!" she groused wishing to eradicate the memory. And yet at the edge of her disgust and every pulse of annoyance, she felt a little shard of intrigue. A little piece of curiosity. And even a little bit of…

 _Stop_. She shut her laptop. _That's it. I need to get out of this room._

The house was mostly quiet apart from the cricket song outside. In a sitting area downstairs the TV showed reruns of a black-and-white show set on mute. Fred was passed out on the couch apparently "watching it." Daphne wasn't anywhere in sight.

It was then she smelled something frying in the kitchen and limped towards it. The appetizing smell reminded her that she'd hardly eaten that day. She'd snacked on one, maybe two yogurt-granola bars. Now her stomach punished her for the neglect.

And who else should she find immersed in anything of the edible persuasion besides Shaggy and his psychotic "smart-dog"? Immediately their last encounter came rushing back to her. She could still smell the pine scented soap rubbed into his skin.

With Scooby Doo loyally at his side, Shaggy focused on three pans burning on the stove and a stack of pancakes piling higher and higher on the countertop beside them.

"Finally, a home-cooked meal, Scoob."

Scooby licked his lips. "Roh boy!"

Velma watched cautiously from behind. Her chest fluttered at the sight of him with his too-tall form and deceitfully skinny build. He'd rolled up his flannel sleeves past his elbows showcasing a left arm totally covered in tattoos. The black gauges didn't hide well amid his mess of light brown hair that he shoved back every now and then.

"Hey, wanna check if we packed any chocolate sauce?" Shaggy asked as he flipped a golden brown pancake.

"Ro-K." As Scooby turned around to the cooler on the table, he caught sight of Velma and paused. "Uh… Raggy?"

"Did I mistake it for the oil can again?" he asked as he turned his head. He fell quiet and tried for a friendly grin. "Oh, like, hi."

"Hi."

"Uh… sorry again about earlier. Scooby's sorry too."

"Reah. Rerry rorry," he said with those same pathetic brown eyes.

She shrugged. "It's ok."

"Hey, we're making pancakes. Hungry?"

Her stomach _was_ growling. "You brought a mix?" She asked, deeming it safe enough to enter.

"Nah. Scooby and I always make 'em from scratch. There is no finer art than authentic good-mornin' pancakes late at night."

"I don't make broad claims about art but I'm pretty sure there are finer strides being made in the realm of abstract self-expression."

He and Scooby sort of just nodded along. "Sure. Anyway. Scoob and I always have ours with loads of chocolate. Chocolate sauce. Chocolate ice cream. Chocolate coated walnuts…"

"Ro raisins," said Scooby with a firm scowl.

"Right. No chocolate covered raisins, or raisins in any form."

Velma edged nearer, still critical of everything in this dusty old kitchen… specifically its new chef. Then, glancing into the huge cooler she sighed and pulled out something cylindrical. "Oh, by the way, you did take a can of motor oil instead of a jar of chocolate sauce."

Scooby giggled.

"Huh," he said. "They look so much alike."

She looked ahead dully. "Yes, if you're illiterate." Then she reached in for the tub of butter and a plastic bottle of maple syrup. "But we could just use these instead."

"Like, those are breakfast condiments."

"Do you have a mechanical engine running in your chest that needs oiling?"

"Uh, no."

"Then it might be safer to stick with the alternatives."

"I don't know. What do you think, Scoob?"

The dog's ears drooped. "Ro ralnuts?"

Rolling her eyes, Velma dug through the cooler only to uncover an entire bag of chocolate chips. "Will these do?" she asked.

Scooby's eyes alit. "Reah! Reah!"

The three of them ate around the table together. Scooby garbled down his chocolate smothered stack almost faster than Shaggy. Velma tried not to watch them as she stuck to her three pieces lightly covered in butter and a friendly smattering of syrup.

"I have to admit," she said after several bites. "These pancakes are a fine art form, if I do say so myself."

"Like, I consider that high praise," he said, scarfing down another enormous bite.

It didn't take them long to finish eating.

"So, you guys see much of Fred and Daphne in the last few hours?" she asked.

The two of them settled back contently in their seats and swapped glances.

"Rope," said Scooby.

"Nah," said Shaggy. "Though, to be honest I wasn't exactly lookin' for 'em. Not really in the mood to have Daph yellin' at us again."

"Ruh-uh."

"Though, like, I kinda feel bad for her. She's takin' this whole thing oober hard."

"Well I mean," said Velma, "This _is_ basically the apocalypse. I'm more surprised the rest of us are taking this as well as we are." She adjusted her glasses. "I'd sooner presume a psychotic breakdown from you with your emotional imbalance. Or the pressure Fred's assumed in just two short months to completely wipe him out. And yet, here we are. Mentally intact. Mostly."

Shaggy shrugged. "Plenty of screaming and running gets a lot off the chest."

"Apparently."

"It's way better to just let things out rather than bottle them up forever and ever. Otherwise you'll explode."

Scooby made a dulled exploding sound with his lips.

"Right," said Velma. She instantly thought of those pesky things called feelings buried deep beneath her regimented thought patterns. It was exactly where she wanted them. Buried flat.

"Daphne sure won't have that problem," Shaggy added.

"Rat's rue."

"Fred's like exploding hope rainbows all the time so like, he should be fine I guess."

"I ruppose."

"And you, Velma…" he said. The two of them squinted at her thoughtfully. "I think there's a warm blooded heart beneath that metallic robot suit you're wearing."

"Darn," she said. "And I would've gotten away with it too if it wasn't for your… _meddling_."

He and Scooby smirked.

Digging into her last piece of pancake, she felt Shaggy's eyes on her. For the moment, she didn't think she minded.

"Well, like, I'm gonna clean up," he said.

"I'll help," said Velma, taking her and Scooby's plates. She surprised herself by volunteering, but she found she'd rather linger.

He shrugged and headed to the sink.

It was odd doing something so normal after weeks of abnormal-ness. But falling into the routine of a simple kitchen task felt good. It felt safe. He scrubbed the pans while she dried and stacked them anywhere she found room. He sort of rambled about this and that while Scooby started to doze off on the kitchen floor. His ears twitched every now and then.

Though, no matter what he said, her eyes kept falling on his tattoo sleeve. The colors were even more vibrant wet. After the last pan she finally asked.

"So, what's with a whole arm of permanent ink?" She leaned against the counter wiping the soaked rim of a skillet.

"Oh," he pointed to the lowest one at his wrist. It spelled out "spork" in black lettering. "This is the one that started it all. I got it on a dare back in high school."

"A dare?"

"Yeah. And this one," he pointed to a blue lotus flower, "was when I decided to become a Buddhist. But _this_ one is when I decided to _not_ to be a Buddhist after like six months or so. Also in high school."

She never got so much as a haircut without careful consideration. She couldn't imagine covering any part of her body with skin art. And yet he went at it so carefree-like.

"I know a guy who's really good. I could show you his studio and stuff… you know, like, _after_ we switch everybody off monster-mode."

"No thanks," she said. But then another design near his elbow caught her eye. Without thinking she touched it. "What's this one?"

He hesitated. "It's just some weird cartoon my tattoo artist decided to draw. I said he could do whatever. I might've been a little drunk. Or maybe he was." He scratched his chin.

"Let me guess, high school?"

"Nah, Scoob was there. He was also drunk."

"I ron't recall," Scooby said indignantly and fell back asleep.

"Yeah, ok bud."

Velma didn't know whether to laugh or cringe. Instead she turned to find a place for this last frying pan.

"So what about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Tattoos? Piercings?"

"Never."

He grinned. "Like, why not?"

"Didn't ever cross my mind." She leaned against the counter and smoothed down her shirt.

Shaggy took a seat crossing his arms on the back of the chair. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He grinned, oddly interested in whatever she said. "Ever get black-out drunk?"

"No."

"Ride a mechanical bull?"

"No."

"Try LSD?"

"What is this interrogation?"

He laughed, "I'm just curious. I always saw you around the complex and thought this girl's leading a double life: one as an extremely serious scientist and the other… an air balloon racer."

"A what?"

"An elephant trainer?"

"Who?"

"A street magician in a mask who wears her pet monkey as a hat, but he's actually stealing people's pocket change."

"Are you on something right now?"

"Come on, what did you do outside the complex?"

"Uh," she rubbed her arms, "Nothing. I was a researcher. I researched."

"Even outside?"

She shrugged. "I rarely left that place."

"For all these years?"

"Science isn't just some subject in school," she said. "It's a door into the entire world. Absorbing the knowledge I've attained wasn't just some after-school hobby. It's my life. I've never bothered with tattoos or getting wasted at a bar necessary because this world is so deeply and innately flawed in areas that superior technology has been neglected. All life's great problems need solving, and that can't be accomplished if I'm just hobbling around the streets doing tricks with a petty thieving chimp! We need answers. We need solutions. And I _almost_ found them until the imbecilic Four went ahead and…!" she stopped herself catching the frightened look on his face. She realized how loud she was talking. Clearing her throat she backed down a little embarrassed. "Well, we know what they did. The point is… uh, what were we talking about?"

"Like, science?"

"Oh, right. It's my whole life."

"I got that."

She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Right. Well, I should probably go to…"

"What about love?" he asked, tilting his head. "Ever been in love?"

"Definitely not."

He pursed his lips.

"You don't look like you believe me."

"What's not to believe?" he asked.

She crossed her arms looking him over. "Have you?"

His brows knotted as he rubbed the back of his head. "Uh…" he said and winced. "Once."

"What happened?"

"She turned into a monster."

"The Nanites got her too?"

He just smirked. "Like, Nanites had nothin' to do with it, trust me."

She grinned but wondered what he meant.

Then he released a huge yawn. "Man, what time is it, Scoob?"

The dog grumbled something in response.

Velma's ankle throbbed and she felt the weight of a very long day.

"Time for bed I guess," she said.

She watched him stand up and stretch his arms out, adding on to his already colossal height. Her heart flipped around and she had to look away to keep it quiet.

"Cool," he said. "Let's hope the beasties are as wiped out as we are."

They walked up the stairs and to their borrowed bedrooms together. A very groggy Scooby trailed behind.

"Well, here's my stop," said Shaggy as he pushed open his door. Scooby got halfway through before collapsing. "Wow good job, buddy."

"G'night," she said turning away.

"Oh by the way," he said, stopping her. "Like, I am totally sorry about earlier."

She waved it off. "Forget it."

"Cool." Then he lingered for a second. She waited there in the hallway wondering if he'd say anything else. He smacked his lips together looking at the floor by her feet.

It made her more nervous than she'd ever admit to herself.

"Yeah, Shaggy?"

"Huh? Oh, uh nothin', never mind. G'night Velma."

"Goodnight," she said with an air of suspicion.

Hitting the lights and dropping into bed, she stuffed down her confusing thoughts about Shaggy. It wasn't worth the trouble, she told herself. Though, once her head hit the pillow all troubles went away as sleep took her into a dreamless land. And for a while there was bliss.

And then psychotic screaming woke her right back up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The team scaredy-cats screamed down the hallway.

"Please no," she muttered, dragging her pillow over her head. After a few moments, she realized that there might actually be a threat. So she grabbed her glasses and got up.

Peaking out the door she found Fred and Daphne at the other end of the hall fully armed and shining flashlights into the dark and empty rooms.

On the other side of the hall was Shaggy and Scooby crumpled up in a dog-pile with each other, a lamp, a torn racecar magazine, an alarm clock and a newly broken desk-chair. Checking for the source of screaming, it seemed momentarily safe. While hugging her cold arms, Velma marched over to the guys.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"L-like it was awful!" said Shaggy, still buried beneath the junk and Scooby's rear end.

"Rawful!" Scooby echoed.

Velma started untangling them from the lamp's cord. It had really tied up Scooby's paws. Biting her lip, she couldn't understand how they even ended up like this.

"Scoob and I were asleep when we heard this noise," Shaggy said. "And when we woke up, there was this _thing_ standing in the corner."

Scooby's teeth chattered and he covered his eyes with his paws.

"A thing?" Velma asked, wondering if he could be more vague.

"But like it wasn't a thing."

She'd thought too soon.

"It was like this super thin, small-ish person with long hair. Oh and scrawny, sharp hands."

To paint a picture, Scooby stood onto his hind legs, thrust out his paws, sucked in his gut and hung his head over to the side with a googly-eyed expression. He started making soft moaning noises and drooling.

"Scoob, I don't think it made that sound," Shaggy said.

Velma merely rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. "What did it do? Chase you?"

"Reah!"

"Like, no. It sort of just stood there watching us with big, shadowy eyes!" he started trembling all over again.

Velma tried to piece this together. "It doesn't sound like any of the monsters we've encountered."

"It wasn't like any of them. It was worse." Then he noticed something else. "Like, are you cold?"

"I'm fine," she said dropping her hands at her sides.

"Hey gang!" Fred called from Shaggy and Scooby's room. "Check this out!"

"Like we are not going back in there!" said Shaggy from the doorway after Velma and Daphne had gathered around Fred. Scooby hid behind Shaggy's legs and peaked into the room.

When Fred shined his flashlight against one of the room's corners they saw long, drawn-out claw marks dragging up from the floor.

"Well that's strange," he said.

Velma went in and stooped beside the wall. Then she picked at the wood with her fingernail. "The markings go in pretty deep. I wonder what could've caused this."

"Like, the shadow-eyed girl-ish thing!" said Shaggy having finally dared to step back inside. Scooby still clung to his legs.

"Well she must have really sharp claws," said Daphne.

Fred continued to look around knocking on walls and stomping on the floor for any hollow sounds. "There don't seem to be any trap doors or anything."

"Why would a ghost need trap doors?" asked Shaggy.

"How do you know it was a ghost?" Velma asked. "You just said you didn't know what it was."

"It reemed rhostly."

"Yeah, it seemed ghostly."

"Well if it is a ghost it probably can't hurt you," said Fred as he started to leave the room.

"No? Did you see what it did to the wall?"

"Reah!"

Daphne smoothed back her hair exhaustedly and slumped against the outside wall. "Well it looks like it's gone now," she said. "Why don't we try for some sleep and figure this out in the morning?"

"But what if we don't make it to see the morning?" Shaggy asked and Scooby jumped into his arms.

"Woe is us!" Scooby said placing his paw over his brow dramatically.

"Come on, guys," said Fred, gripping Shaggy's shoulder. "You'll be fine."

"Will we, Fred?"

"Reah. Will we, Red?"

"Of course, we only have," he stopped to yawn and check his watch, "A few more hours 'til the sun rises. You can hang in until then, can't you?"

Shaggy and Scooby exchanged dismal looks.

"Great!" said Daphne anxious for sleep. She was the first to leave.

Fred still seemed upbeat. "See ya when the sun comes up!"

Velma lingered by the desk. It was empty with a fine sheet of dust. But there was a single, slender handprint on the surface. It was smaller than hers.

"Jinkies."

"What?" asked Shaggy, his hair on end.

"Maybe they left someone behind," she said.

Shaggy's face went white. He gulped. "Are you sure about that?"

In that moment, she didn't think it'd be the healthiest thing to string them along her rambling theories. "I'm not. But you two should be fine now that Fred checked your room." As she started to leave, Shaggy caught her arm.

"Like, where are you going?" he asked still bug-eyed.

"To bed," she took her arm back.

"Bed? How can you sleep at a time like this? The monster could've switched to your room!"

"Oh, now it's a fully fledged monster?"

"I don't know what it is. Monster. Ghost. Girlish-thingy-with-eyes-and-stuff. But it was right there watching us. It's probably still watching us from some hidden place."

She looked out into the hallway. "Where?"

" _Anywhere_. Don't you watch movies?"

She rubbed her temples. "Your imagination is out of control, Shaggy."

"Or maybe yours is just too in control…?"

She sighed. "That doesn't make sense." Still, his anxious expression didn't soften. "Ok. Say you're right and there is some ghost-girl-monster. What do you propose we do about it?"

"I…" he started and stopped. Pondering, he stroked his beard. "We could stay up all night with all the lights on."

"Out of the question."

"We could take shifts watching and sleeping with the lights on."

"Here. Why don't you take this flashlight, sit outside with Scooby and I'll sleep. Let me know if anything happens."

"Got it."

She slapped the flashlight into his palm and started for her room. Drained, she dragged her fingers through her hair and held back a groan.

"'Night, Velma."

"Right, Relma," Scooby echoed.

Her exasperation melted away. Grabbing the doorknob she looked over her shoulder, "Goodnight, guys."

But when she stepped into her room she saw someone else standing in it.

Velma froze, eyes wide.

"J-j-jinkies…"

It was just like Shaggy had tried to explain… a scrawny girl with claws. Pasty and ghoulish. But she just stood there soundlessly. Then she flinched.

Velma shrieked and jumped back out slamming the door. She darted straight into Shaggy and Scooby.

"It's – it's – it's in there!"

"Well then let's get out of here!" Shaggy said, and the three of them raced down to find Daphne and Fred.

They stumbled into the living room when Velma suddenly regained her senses. She caught Shaggy's shirt and Scooby's collar. They nearly flew back.

"Wait!" she said.

They turned around startled and pale. "Like, what for?"

"What was that thing?"

"Who knows? Who cares?"

"Reah, who cares?" Scooby reiterated. "Re have to ro!"

"I mean, is it really dangerous?"

"Of course!"

"Based on what?" Then she looked back, her heart still pounding. "I have to go back up there."

"What?!" Scooby and Shaggy asked in horror.

"My computer. My research. It's all still in that room. We can't find the Four without it. I need to go back."

"Right now?" He trembled, wringing the flashlight until the batteries popped out.

"Yes. Right now."

!

Blanketed in moonlight, Fred listened to her breathing as Daphne curled up on his chest. He savored this quiet moment when she didn't push him away. For now, he was her safety… even if she slept with a knife under one pillow, a handgun on the side table, a rifle beneath the bed and her boots laced up to her ankles with small knives tucked in pockets. He didn't care. To him, she was wonderful.

Even as she snored like a growling tiger, he merely held her closer.

After the near incident, she came into Fred's room teary eyed. Dropping her gear, she stood beside his bed.

"I don't want to sleep alone right now," she'd said, knee on the mattress.

Surprised, he failed to register what she'd said. She'd never let him buy her a drink forget crawl into his bed with actual tears.

"Would you mind?" she said after he failed to respond fast enough. Her lip quivered.

"Here," he said, moving over.

She practically barreled into him, burrowing her face into his shirt as she nestled her body against his.

He was in shock. Hands floating out before him unsure of where to put them, he lay there frozen and unsure.

"Please hold me," she said.

"Sure, sure," he replied, letting his arms coil around her. He let out a breath.

"I've been such a jerk this whole apocalypse," she said, her voice thick with regret.

His brows pinched together, "No, Daph." Seeing her soft red hair down her back, he gingerly went to touch it. Before he knew it, he stroked along it gently, so smooth, glossy and red. "You're not a jerk."

She sniffled. "I kinda am."

"You're tough," he replied. "There's a difference."

Then she lifted her face and met his blue eyes, the side her head pillowed by his arm. "Do you think Velma is the psychotic mastermind behind the mutations?"

"No."

She blinked.

"OK," she said. Then she settled back against his shirt, her forehead pressed between his pecks.

"Ok?" he said. "That's it?"

"Yup." At peace, she cleared her throat, her eyelids shutting.

"No further investigating? No endless probing?"

"Nope."

"…What?"

He felt her warm breath through his shirt. "It wouldn't matter either way, would it?" she said. "Our lives are changed forever now."

"I mean sure, that's true, I suppose."

"Might as well stop being so… _tough_ , as you put it."

He ran his hand down her hair again, savoring the soft feeling. "Are you sure about that?"

"For now." She sniffled again. Then, "You smell nice."

He chuckled. "Yeah? That's a relief, considering I haven't done laundry for a month."

She laughed too, a tired laugh. "Not your shirt. You."

His smile faded wondering if any of this mattered to her the way it did to him.

"Thanks," she said in a mumbled, tired voice.

He tried to stay chipper. "For what, smelling nice?"

She didn't answer.

"Daph?" Looking down, he realized she'd fallen asleep and his heart melted. He kissed the top of her head, "Any time." Then settling back, he looked up at the moon and savored this moment.

And then a group of strange footsteps stopped outside their door.

!

"Like, this is a bad idea," said Shaggy.

"You have an alternative?" Velma said.

"Uh, we could _not_ go back in there."

"Or come back rater," said Scooby.

She shook her head in disbelief. "We need that computer."

Then she pushed open the bedroom door with a flashlight in one hand and a handgun in the other. Scooby and Shaggy waited behind her, still trembling. The hall lights were off.

A strange grumbling sound came from just beyond the doorway.

"It's in there," Velma confirmed in a low whisper.

"Great," whispered Shaggy.

"Roh boy."

"You two wait out here."

"Roger that."

Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she steeled herself. Then she flicked on her flashlight and kicked the door wide open.

"YOU!" she shouted, pointing her flashlight all over the place.

Light fell over the torn fabric of the bed, the sliced up walls, and her bags had been hungrily torn through. But there was no sign of the monster. Velma flipped the switch and the ceiling light flashed on.

"VELMA!" Shaggy shrieked.

Suddenly the thing dropped on her from the ceiling.

A horrible face giggled into hers while sharp hands held her down. The girl-ish creature mumbled something in hysteric nonsense.

"Gimmy-dommy-nimmy!" she said.

Velma wriggled underneath. "Get off!"

Scooby barked from the hallway.

Then something hit the ghoul on the head.

The creature flung back startled, black shadowed eyes gazing past Velma's face. With a screech she lifted off the ground and bounded toward Shaggy. He barely dodged her and darted down the hall.

"ZOINKS!"

The scraggly creature rushed after him with her wild, girlish laugh.

Hysterical, Scooby ran after them. "Raggy!"

Velma pushed herself up, fixed her glasses and looked for a weapon. She grabbed her gun but then saw the family photo had fallen from the bedside table. She noticed something peculiar about a girl standing in the middle.

She had long, black hair and big, dark eyes. And she was the exact same size as the ghoul.

"Jinkies," she muttered.

This wasn't any mutant. She was definitely one of the residents left behind.

A chill stabbed her core when she realized she might not be the only one.

"We have to get out of here."

She grabbed her laptop, tossed her things back into her torn-up bag and rushed out into the hall.

"Shaggy! Scooby? Fred! Daphne!" she called as she ran down the stairs.

But once she hit the bottom, there was no one in sight. All the doors were open. Claw marks slashed along the walls and down the floor.

And everything was quiet.

She took a step further and swallowed. Her eyes grew wide while the hairs on the back of her neck pricked. Digging her nails into her computer case, she followed the flickering light toward the foyer. It was black out there, black as tar.

"Guys?"

Footsteps sounded from the front porch.

Her heart stopped.

"Scooby Doo?" Her mouth went dry.

Watching the open doorway, she waited for something to appear. She'd never hoped to see a familiar face so badly in all her life.

 _Shaggy?_

The footsteps drew nearer. Grew louder. Steady and heavy.

She stopped and waited.

Then a hot breath blew against the back of her hair.

She stopped.

And then someone threw a burlap bag over her head and grabbed her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Writhing in their grip, she kicked at her captors screaming. But her efforts were useless. They hoisted her over their shoulders with ease and carried her out into the night. It wasn't until she felt them throw her down and bind her to something that she stopped fighting them. Then they ripped off the burlap sack.

Velma found herself tied to a pole in a field. Beside her were several more posts, Shaggy, Daphne and Fred bound to each of them by rope like her.

A group of scraggly farmers stood before them. The big-eyed ghoul-girl was among them. A bonfire burned in the background, its flicking tongues lapping up the black sky. Velma could feel the heat on her face even from across the field.

"I guess someone was home the whole time," she heard Shaggy say.

Then the largest of the farmers approached them zombie-like. There was something wrong with his walk as one of his feet dragged. In his hand he carried a pitchfork.

So far she gathered that these creatures were intelligent to the extent of capturing, tying ropes and starting a fire. She wondered what else they could do, or what they knew, if they were mutants at all.

"YOU!" said the farmer, pointing his pitchfork at her. "You one of 'em four sciency ones, ain't ya?" His mouth seemed uncooperative when he spoke, like it didn't want to open all the way. His words sounded like one drawn-out moan.

"I'm sorry… what?"

"Nimmenny-dimmenny!" shouted the ghoul girl. She waved something in her scrawny, clawed hands. Velma recognized it as her laptop.

"Quiet, Sadie Mae!" said the farmer.

She settled down holding Velma's computer.

"I didn't catch a word of that," Shaggy said.

"What do you people want?" Daphne asked without an intelligible response. As they grumbled something, her fingers worked tirelessly to unravel her bonds. Fred struggled too, but his constant pulling and yanking only worsened his position. Shaggy just trembled.

It was then Velma realized she couldn't find Scooby Doo. Before she could ask about him, the lead farmer marched closer, waving his pitchfork.

He pointed at her with his finger first and then at his own face. "You did this!"

That time she understood.

His skin bubbled with boils and seemed about to rot off his bones. A rancid smell oozed from his body.

"I didn't!" Velma said. "I'm trying to help you!"

That's when the ghoul-girl, Sadie Mae, crept forward. She opened the laptop with uncoordinated hands and a webpage about her lab facility popped up. Velma's photo as one of the scientists was featured in the "about us" section.

As frightened as she was, she couldn't help but be intrigued. "You can use the Internet?"

Sadie Mae glared at her, her head tilted at an unnerving angle. She muttered something else in her obscure tongue, but Velma read her tone loud and clear. She wasn't a dummy.

"You done this, didn't you?" the farmer went on, returning to the subject at hand. The prongs of his pitchfork glimmered against the firelight, looking sharp and sinister.

Velma didn't like the sort of accusatory way everyone watched her. For a second, it felt like one of her many nightmares. Only now she really was forced to look into the face of a vengeful monster that knew what she had done.

"Look, I'm not responsible for this," she said. "But I am trying to fix it."

The farmer cocked his head.

"That's what you want, isn't it? If you just let us go, we can reverse all of this!"

"NO!" shouted the farmer.

Sadie Mae cried out something incoherent and slammed the laptop on the ground. Sparks sputtered from it as it died.

Velma gasped. _My research._

"No reversin' nothin'! _Dracula_ got a plan."

The gang went quiet all the sudden. Even though Daphne had nearly untied herself, she stopped struggling for a whole moment.

They shared extremely confused looks with each other.

"Wait… Dracula?" asked Fred. "Did he just say 'Dracula'?"

Daphne looked over at Shaggy and Velma as if asking the same thing.

"Like… what?"

"Y'all done this," the farmer went on. "Only you know how to fix it. So we gotta stop you." That's when the others started toward them. They each held something nefarious: a torch, a rake, an axe and other things. One of them had a plunger.

"Wait, wait, wait," said Velma. The farmer and his family hesitated. "So you want to stay like this?"

"Hell's bells yeah!" cried out one of the woman-folk in the back.

"Uh, why?"

"'Cause now we in league with the Master Dracula he-self."

"Guys, I keep hearing 'Dracula' when he talks," Fred announced.

"Like, are you talking about _the_ Dracula? You know, pointy fangs? Turns into a bat?" asked Shaggy.

"Yeah," he said in a drawn-out voice. "Dracula wants the four of ye dead. So we gonna kill ye."

The farmer and his family crept toward them again, more menacing than before.

"W-wait! But like, I still don't understand why there's a Dracula!" Shaggy said. He pulled frantically at his bonds.

Quietly, Velma tried to slip out of hers. But they were too tight. With sweat beading across her forehead she shot glances between the gang and the farmer family. Their silhouettes only got closer, poised with weapons.

"Yeah, or why that makes you so fond of your ghoulish state!" added Fred.

Desperate, she pulled harder even as the rope carved into her skin. She grit her teeth.

The largest farmer appeared clearer than ever now. What shadow blocked, the moonlight revealed. He was mutated from slimy, rotten brow to dragging feet. And his eyes gleamed with hunger. The prongs of his fork aimed straight for her.

 _This?_ She thought in bewilderment. _This is how it ends?_

Shaggy was swearing.

"Come on, can we talk about this?" Fred pleaded.

Then Daphne leapt off her pole, bonds unwound. "Got it!" Feet readied, fists positioned, she kicked the nearest farmer square in the chest. He floundered to the ground. Then she stole his axe. "Give me that!"

"Quick! Quick!" Shaggy called. "Over here!"

But she ran to Fred first. He was tied to a pole in the opposite direction of them.

"Whoa, Daph wait!" Fred cried as she rushed at him with an axe raised high.

In one sharp swing she freed him.

But as soon as she turned around to free Velma and Shaggy, a handful of these ghoul-farmers surrounded her. They moaned with hungry voices and waved their tools. It was eight against two.

Struggling with her ropes, Velma realized the largest farmer was about to run her through. With a groan, he lunged. She shut her eyes.

But his motor skills were not as functional as he'd anticipated. He swung the pitchfork at her… and missed. The lunging motion threw him off balance. He moaned something as he stumbled off course.

But that didn't mean his family was far behind.

Sadie Mae pounced onto Shaggy's pole. She crawled down it towards his head like a squirrel on a tree. She giggled, mumbling her meaningless gibberish.

Shaggy squirmed trying to pull away. "Oh no…"

"Pretty, pretty!" she said.

Her jagged hand hung over his face; nails sharp and ready to cut. She sliced a long line down his cheek. Bright blood slipped down into his beard.

Suddenly, an engine roared as a pair of headlights rushed into view. Velma looked up.

Rolling down the field was the Mystery Machine!

The horn honked while it drove haphazardly at the zombie farmers. At first they were slow to react. They raised their weapons in protest. But the military vehicle with its ridiculous paint job charged right through them. The driver was either trying to squash every creature in sight or his coordination skills were only as refined as a drunken monkey's.

And when the windshield revealed Scooby at the wheel, she realized it was the latter.

"Scooby!" Shaggy cried out.

Sadie Mae stopped trying to trim the skin off his face to watch this horrible interruption. She hissed.

When Scooby hit the brakes before them, he rammed into the largest farmer who flew off his feet. He hit the ground with a thud. Then Scooby flung his door open.

"Oops!" said Scooby. He covered his mouth with his paw all abashed like. "Rorry." Then he giggled.

The next thing Velma knew the swing of an axe cut her rope. The bonds fell off her hands.

"Let's go!" shouted Fred, him and Daphne finally caught up.

Freed, Shaggy ducked away from Sadie Mae while he bolted for the van. But she pounced and latched onto his back.

"Zoinks!"

Her claws dug into his shoulders while she giggled a terrible, girlish laugh. "Mine, mine, mine!"

Fred and Daphne had just leapt in the van and turned around to call back.

"Let's go!" said Daphne.

"Like, I'm – Ow!" Shaggy said, trying to shake the girl off his back. She only laughed fiercer.

"Raggy!" Scooby barked.

As the zombie-like farmers realized their prey was about to escape, they dragged themselves off the ground and clawed toward the van. Their moans reverberated over the engine's growl.

"Kill them!" one shouted.

Velma stood at the threshold of the van door when she realized Shaggy was still struggling behind. Sadie Mae had secured her grip around him like a cobra, arms and legs squeezing around his shoulders and waist. He couldn't shake her no matter what he did.

"Hurry!" Fred shouted. He held out his hand to her.

Daphne had retrieved a rifle from the van and started knocking off oncoming zombie-farmers. They closed in around them, one head splattering at a time and not stopping.

"Get out of the open, Velma!" said Daphne.

"But – !" she looked back.

Shaggy staggered when she pulled on his hair. He tripped on his own feet and crumpled into the grass. Sadie Mae kept laughing.

Scooby almost bolted out the door, but the farmers had arrived, falling on the driver's door, beating on the hood of the van. He couldn't get through.

Without a second thought, Velma turned back for him. Weaponless, she charged at the girl, grabbed her by the hair and yanked it back.

Sadie Mae squealed and slashed her claws at Velma, her hands tangling in her hair.

"Let go!" Velma said, yanking on her like she wanted to rip off her head. Gritting her teeth and tightening her grip, she pulled with every fragile muscle in her body. Sadie Mae flung off into the nearest zombie farmer and tripped him.

Velma fell back too, but quickly crawled to Shaggy's side. Together they stammered back onto their feet and charged toward the van.

"They're trying to get in!" said Daphne, kicking one in the face.

Velma and Shaggy dove inside. Then Daphne slammed the door shut.

"Scooby, go!" Daphne said with her gun now covered in brown and gray slime. Similar goo had splattered over her and Fred's clothes.

"Ro-K!" said Scooby. The dog swatted all the controls, the horn, the steering wheel while hitting the brake _and_ the gas with his back paws.

They watched him amazed. "How'd you drive it down here in the first place?" asked Shaggy, breathless.

"No time!" said Fred. He leapt to the front. "Slide over, Scooby."

He didn't hesitate to move.

Grabbing the steering wheel, pulling the stick out of park and slamming on the gas, the van bolted forward. The zombie-farmers pounded on the outside. One of them shattered the passenger window with the plunger.

"Why the plunger?" Fred asked.

But in the next minute they sped out of the mob's reach and the plunger became irrelevant.

Minutes later with Daphne up front beside Fred and Scooby, Velma and Shaggy were still on the floor trying to catch their breath. Fresh blood leaked down his cheek and Velma didn't know when her limbs would stop quivering. She glanced at her wrists, raw and sweltering from the rope.

"Talk about a barnyard bash," he said, "one where _we're_ gettin' bashed on an old barnyard!"

She chuckled. "Are you ok?"

He winced, putting pressure against the side of his face. His hand came back bloody. "What'd she do, try to carve my face off?"

"I think she just liked it so much," said Velma. Then she dug around for the first aid kit. Coming up with the clunky box, she pulled out some gauze and alcohol.

"A little too much if you ask me."

"Here," she said, pouring the alcohol onto a clean cloth. Then she knelt beside him. "Hold still."

"This is gonna sting isn't – Ow!"

"Hush," she said. Pressing the cloth to his cheek she ignored his protests. "The sooner we sterilize the wound the better we prevent infection."

"Like, is one of your doctorate degrees actually for being a medical physician?"

"No."

"No? Why? Was there not enough time for it?"

She half smirked. "Medical oriented physicians require human interaction. I hadn't any intentions of partaking in that sort of thing."

"Huh," he said.

Taking another clean cloth, she dampened this one with water from a plastic water bottle and started wiping the blood from his skin. It smeared at first before coming off in consistent strokes. Following the length of his face, she became quietly immersed, trying to pretend he wasn't watching her. Trying to pretend that he didn't make her feel oddly nauseated.

Trying harder to pretend she didn't like it.

Then his hand folded over hers, stopping it against his jaw.

"What about now?" he asked.

She met his gaze, warm and brown.

"Still not into that doctoring stuff?"

She swallowed. "I…"

"Hey, Velma?" Fred called.

She blinked. Then reality tore through reminding her that they'd just escaped the murderous grip of Dracula-worshipping zombies. And at the moment, the beatnik dog-trainer was sitting awfully close to her.

"Y-yes?" she said.

"We're at a fork in the road. You think we should drive toward Canada or Mexico?"

Then she shook out of her stupor and turned around. "I'm sorry, what?"

When she looked at the front seats, Fred was squinting out the windshield, Daphne was tampering with the GPS… and Scooby was eyeing her and his best pal with unnerving interest. He even winked at her.

"Which way to the Four's underground bunker?" asked Daphne.

Now it was all coming back to her. "Jinkies," she said, falling back against one of the bunk beds.

"Jinkies?" said Fred. "What do you mean? Is that a good 'Jinkies' or a bad one?"

"That psycho ghoul destroyed my laptop."

The van went quiet.

"So…" Fred went on, "On a scale of 'one' to 'it's over,' how bad is that?"

"I was running an algorithm to narrow down potential spots for their hideout. Now, what would've taken a few hours to pinpoint will take us weeks."

" _Weeks_?" said Daphne. "Do we even have that kind of time?"

"It doesn't matter," said Velma. "Without a powerful computer, we won't so much as beat Scooby's solitaire score forget locate the complex." Then she shot the dog a dirty look. "I know you've been playing games on my laptop."

He giggled.

"So we need to do some shopping… or should I say, shoplifting?" said Fred.

"Oh yay another supply run. Like, we barely survived the last one. And the one before that," Shaggy said.

Scooby whimpered. "What about Racula?"

"Dracula?" said Daphne.

"Ok, so you guys definitely heard that too?" asked Fred.

Daphne put down the device and turned around in her seat. "What could they mean by that?"

"I mean they're just mutants, what do they know?" Fred wondered.

But Velma shook her head. "They weren't _that_ imbecilic. They could bind us and build fires and everything. Even that psychopath Sadie Mae could run a Google search. Which really proves some theories I've been hypothesizing… though I don't think Dracula is just some empty threat. There might be something to it."

"So like, now we got a vengeful vampire after us? Oh boy, Scoob."

Scooby's head sunk.

"But a mutant calling himself Dracula? Isn't that sort of ridiculous?" asked Daphne.

"What it is, is a mystery," said Fred.

"Like one in an ever expanding list," Shaggy said. "I still don't understand how Scooby could've beat me in Solitaire. I was reigning champ for a solid week!"

Velma's jaw dropped. "Is nothing sacred to you two? That was _my_ laptop!"

"Can we focus, please?" said Daphne. "What we have now is a mission with no lead and some obscure threat that may or may not be relevant… on top of constantly having to evade giant monsters wherever we go. We're kind of stuck right now."

"No, what we need is a plan!" Fred said. He put the van in park. "And I happen to have one."

Scooby drooped against his chair, "This retter re good."

"The next objective is to help Velma complete her research and survive. So, Daphne," he started, "you're on GPS duty. Right now, we need to find an electronics store for a new laptop, so work your magic. Velma, I want you on inventory. See what else the van is missing and make a list. Shaggy and Scooby, you two are on lookout. Keep your eyes peeled for danger."

"Ok…?" said Shaggy. "Do we ever do anything else?"

"I see signs for a gas station up ahead, I think we should risk it."

"Please no," uttered Shaggy.

"We'll gas up and hit the road. And we'll switch drivers until we make it to town. What do you guys think?"

No one spoke up right away. They just shared the same worried expression.

"Come on you guys," Fred said. "We can do this. We're a team now."

"We are?" asked Velma.

"Sure! With all our different strengths, we're a great team!"

They still looked a little doubtful. So he broke it down.

"Velma, you got the brains. You have the power undo this whole apocalypse. Daph, you got fire and excellent aim. You can combat any creature we face. Shaggy and Scooby, you're quick and always ready to run. You may think it cowardly, but speed is a paramount skill right now. And me, well, I got a really nice ascot that makes me look way more handsome than necessary. Together, we can get through this. It's been two months already we can make it three. Whaddya say?"

No one spoke up right away, but Velma felt a strange shift in the air. It felt like hope.

Scooby straightened up. "Ro-k, Reddy. I'm in."

Daphne rubbed between his ears and grinned. "Yeah, me too."

"Well," said Shaggy with a sigh. "I'm not too busy with anything else right now, so I guess I'm in."

Then the gang looked to Velma.

She realized they really were starting to act like a team and not just a group of accidental acquaintances. They were strange, she knew. But she'd come to realize she might be more fit for a gang of misfits.

 _This might actually work_ , she thought.

"First, let's find that new computer. Then we'll talk," Velma said.

Fred grinned. "All right! The Apocalypse Team is on the road again!"

Daphne sneered, "The _what_ team?"

"Um, apocalypse? What? You don't like it?"

They shook their heads.

"I thought it had a nice ring to it. Fine, never mind. How about, the Scooby Doo Crew! It works because it rhymes with Scooby Doo. Get it?"

"Reah! Reah!" said Scooby.

"How about no," said Velma.

Switching the van into drive he said, "Well, we'll think of something."

They drove off just as a blue streak lit up the eastern horizon. After helping Shaggy to finish bandaging the side of his face, the two of them buckled into the back seat. Scooby was still watching them but she didn't pay much attention. Instead, she stared out the windshield wondering if Fred was right to be so optimistic.

And she wondered if any of them would be so optimistic if they knew the whole truth.

!

Scrappy chewed on the last of some fish-eyed mutant when he heard rumbling in the distance. It wasn't thunder.

He watched a muddy armored vehicle speed across the flat landscape and smirked.

"I'm right on your tail, Scooby," he said, reading the orange spray paint that spelled "Mystery Machine." He took another bite of the creature and swallowed it down.

"Won't be long now 'til we meet again."

Then ditching his kill, he jumped down from his perch atop a smashed vehicle and landed in the bloody grass. It was a gruesome fight, but it didn't take him long to incapacitate the monster. Then one chomp to the jugular ended it in a fountain of blood.

For miles he'd walked, picking up readings in his twitchy headgear on Velma's location. He was still connected to the microchip in her glasses. All smart dogs were synced up with her. But the readings weren't always clear due to the damages of his eyepiece.

"Changing course. Heading southwest," he said. "I wonder what you're looking for."

That's when he heard another thunderous roar. Coming from the east, a cohort of monstrous vehicles stormed down the road. They were wildly decorated in bright colors and the bones of their prey. Some were hideous trucks with oversized wheels, others angular racecars. They tore down the road trying to out-drive one another. Drivers hooted like cowboys.

Scrappy paused at the sight.

 _What the hell…?  
_ Then, a small black coffin-shaped car shot something from beneath its left headlight. Bright green flames sputtered around its projectile before torpedoing the red monster truck in front. The truck exploded in violent flames… and the cars blew through the wreckage hollering and honking still.

He didn't know what to think of it… but the senseless violence of it intrigued him. He wondered who was driving and where they were going.

His head tilted. "I suppose I know how I'll spend my days once Scooby Doo is dead."

Then he headed southwest.

!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Scooby Doo was trapped.

When he'd fallen asleep that night, he was safe by Shaggy's side aboard the Mystery Machine. Now awake, Shaggy was gone and he found himself inside a van-shaped tube of silly string.

"Raggy?" he called.

"Oh good, you're up." Came Velma's voice from somewhere beyond the bright colored webbing. All along the van walls were multicolored neon posted notes, taped-up paper and other clippings. Dozens of strings connected them from the ceiling to the floor to opposing walls. It was a jungle of office supplies.

"Rhat are you roing?" Scooby asked. He sat up in alarm, eyes big and anxious.

"I'm on the verge!" Velma replied from inside the mess. Though he couldn't see her. "I've had an epiphany around two this morning. Or four. Not actually sure. But it came to me as I realized all the details I'd been overlooking! It turns out I'd been too focused on probable intentions on the misuse of Project Elysium and not about the actual results! Oh… this is just stupendous!"

While she ranted, Scooby slipped down on his belly and crept out of the Mystery Machine through the passenger window. Still broken, it was the only space free of sticky notes.

Fred stood outside sipping a cup of coffee after Scooby gained his freedom. The dog had bolted out onto the open parking lot in what looked like the middle of the desert. He wandered around disoriented.

"Raggy?"

"Over here, bud." Shaggy said, sprawled out on a picnic table spray-painted in profanities. With his arm over his brow, he seemed determined to sleep but without any luck. "Man, I'm so hungry," he complained.

"Re roo." Scooby jumped onto a nearby bench once his eyes adjusted to the morning sun.

Then, bailing on his nap, Shaggy sat up. "Maybe we can get in the van from the _back_."

Scooby did not seem as determined to return to that mess.

The small Quick Stop they found on the side of the highway had little to offer besides shade, a bathroom, and a coffee maker. But early in the morning, they found it necessary to stop.

"We need to get that woman a computer," said Fred staring at the van. It jostled from maniacal activity.

Daphne sniggered. "Maybe we just need to get her laid."

He spat out his coffee. "Daph!?"

"What? I'm probably not wrong." She went back to cleaning out the gang's weapons. She'd set them out on the parking lot pavement. She figured it was safe enough considering they hadn't seen even a sign of mutants for miles. And she needed something methodical to do while the crazy-scientist tapped into her newfound decorating craze.

It'd been a whole day since they left the farmhouse and it seemed Velma had gone insane without a proper computer. Her tireless brain worked out a theory so intense, it drove the rest of the gang out of the vehicle.

"Hey! Don't touch that!" Velma suddenly shouted.

Daphne and Fred hardly paid the commotion any notice.

"Like, sorry!" said Shaggy who'd managed to get back inside. "But I'm hungry."

"That marshmallow snack represents the original complex."

"It's called a Chocolate Devil. And that's not marshmallow inside, it's vanilla filling."

"It doesn't matter. Put it back."

Then the side door slid open as Shaggy painfully tried to navigate through the obstacle course that was her brain. He grumbled something and stepped out onto the pavement empty-handed.

"We need to do something about that woman," he said.

Daphne smirked, " _Well_ …"

Fred covered her mouth. "There's no need for that." Even after he took his hand back she grinned.

"Like, I don't wanna know," Shaggy said. "Man, how long 'til we hit the next town?"

"Well, there isn't another _Must Buy_ for a hundred miles," Fred said.

"Great. Where are we again?"

Fred scratched his chin, "Utah, I think."

Desert surrounded them for miles, but at this hour it was still cold. Now acquainting himself with the new plant life, Scooby Doo sniffed at some cacti.

"Not too close, buddy!" Shaggy warned.

"Ro-k!"

"I got it!" Velma announced, stumbling out the door. String coiled around her hands and fingers while tape stuck to her clothes. With her hair askew, sweater rumpled, glasses crooked, she looked positively mad. "Or at least, I'm starting to get it."

"Get what?" asked Fred, taking another sip of coffee.

Then Velma noticed something on Shaggy's pants. "There it is!" She ripped a bright sticky note from his backside.

"Wow! Personal space, maybe?" he said.

"Rouchy," Scooby said as he continued to poke at a desert flower.

Holding up the notecard she said, "This is Harvey my oldest…" she stopped herself for a startled moment, "Uh, _supervisor_. He's the head of the Four."

"And everything was his idea, I'm guessing?" Daphne said.

"Yeah, more or less," she said. "But that's not really relevant, exactly."

"It's not?" asked Fred.

"No. You see; I haven't just been searching for their base. I've been studying the mutations, more specifically how people turned into such diverse creatures. Why aren't they _all_ imbecilic and mute? You know what I mean?"

Shaggy sat down on the ground, "Like, yeah, I guess." He seemed slightly distracted peering occasionally into the van.

"Is this why you woke us up at three in the morning? To go off on another mutation theory?" Daphne asked, her head falling back.

"This is important."

"But at _three_ in the _morning_?"

"Here," Fred interrupted. "Let's get some breakfast going and gather 'round that table…"

"Reakrast?" said Scooby, instantly backing into a cactus. "ROUCH!"

"…I think it's time we had some questions answered."

!

"It appears that even though we've all been exposed to the Nanites, we had to be in direct contact with them during activation. There were far too few of them in my safe zone underground to affect us. But everyone else… well, they didn't stand a chance unless they were someplace untouched by Nanites.

"But for the mutated, it gave them some kind of edge, and this is where my theories have finally converged. The mutated weren't just changed at random; they were upgraded, in a sense. For most, it made them stronger and more threatening. Others became smarter. Faster. Perhaps more attractive."

Shaggy sniggered, "Not in our experience."

"And while their survival skills increased, their humanity deteriorated."

"So the Nanites created hostile super-mutants? How does that coincide with the Four's plan to control everyone?" asked Daphne. "It contradicts their whole operation."

"That was my confusion, but I'll get to that in a minute."

The gang leaned in at this point, listening closely.

"You know how the mutants take on an eerily similar form to, I don't know… comic book monsters? Horror film type creatures? They're not just humongous gorilla people, they're reptilian. Vampirical. Some even seem alien-like. I think I've finally figured it out.

"According to my research, the coding language emphasized words like 'horror,' to explain the human condition, but it was understood as a _genre_."

They paused.

"Understood?" asked Fred. "You talk as if the Nanites…"  
"…Think for themselves? Exactly. My research explained that they were originally programmed to adapt to specific human traits, as per the original intentions. As I understand it, they were supposed to spread peace worldwide by weaning out violent tendencies in humans, which would have worked if not for, well, the Four's interference.

"For a quick example, in the case of a violent man, the Nanites would latch onto the rage impulses in his brain and soften them. Or, for a thief, they would latch onto the electric impulses in her brain that pertain to pleasing the ego and silence that. They react to different people accordingly.

"Because the Nanites adapt so well to human behavior through artificial intelligence, it's _as if_ they think for themselves. But really, they just recognize and mimic humanity seamlessly.

"So when my, uh, superiors tried to alter the programming at the last minute, the Nanites, in a sense, rebelled. They took the reprogramming as a threat and reacted as humans do against a hostile, tyrannical regime. The Nanites' raging resilience gave people that extra kick to shake off oppression.

"For people who were weak and in an environment that demanded strength, they became powerful. For people who were unintelligent and needed smarts to get by, became brilliant. And so on.

"As far as I can tell, that's why we have violent, horror-themed monsters of varying strengths and abilities gallivanting around the country… and maybe the world."

The gang sat there in silence. Scooby dropped his last breakfast patty.

"So, what do the monsters think they're raging against when they try to eat us?" asked Fred.

"The monsters themselves aren't raging against anyone. The Nanites are. And they've empowered humanity with a violent streak that doesn't seem stoppable at this moment."

Fred stood up and rubbed the back of his neck.

"So then, like, what do we do?" asked Shaggy.

"Stick to Fred's plan, I guess," Velma said. "Then find the Four's base and reprogram the Nanites."

"You make it sound so easy," said Daphne, skeptical.

Velma fiddled with a bright pink string coiled around her wrist. She seemed to finally take notice of her wild appearance. "It'll be anything but." Then she sat back, a somber look crossing her face. "What we're up against isn't the deliberate intentions of four crazy men. It was most certainly a mistake. Meaning that they may try to fix it."

"And save the world themselves?" said Shaggy.

Velma shook her head. "No. Make it worse and infect the four of us with it. Whatever we've witnessed thus far will be nothing compared to their alterations."

"Oh boy," Fred said sitting back down. "Well gang, then we'd better find them and fast."

Daphne studied her, eyes narrowed, arms crossed. "I don't get it," she said.

"Like, you and me both!" said Shaggy, dropping his head on the table.

"Not the theory, I get that! I mean… why would four scientists go into all that trouble to generate peace-enforcing Nanites and then suddenly alter their purpose? What changed their minds?"

"I guess we'll find out, Daph," said Fred.

"I'm asking Velma."

"Me? How would I know? I worked for them, that's all."

"Doing what?"

"Oh no, not this again!" said Shaggy.

"I was a research assistant." Velma answered.

"An assistant? You have how many degrees from how many universities? And you're just some assistant?" Daphne pressed.

"Project _Elysium_ was an extremely prestigious program that involved studying under experts in the nanotech field. Which is still untapped territory."

Even so, Daphne didn't seem satisfied.

"What do you want me to say? There is no Four? The whole apocalypse was my great scheme to punish the world for whatever pathetic reason? Well there are, and it wasn't. I studied nanotechnology so as to produce life-saving mechanisms that could be harmlessly implanted into the terminally ill and combat disease. I could've cured cancer. Aids. Blindness. Anything! Is that really so reprehensible?"

Daphne sighed. "I so wanna believe you, Velma. I really do. But I just have this nagging feeling that you're not this innocent. Call me paranoid, but I still think you're nothing but a big, fat liar."

"What happened to innocent until _proven_ guilty?" Shaggy asked.

"Sorry to attack your girlfriend, Shaggy, but all monsters have to be unmasked, no matter how cute you think they are."

"They're dating?" Fred asked.

"What? Like, no. She's not my girlfriend."

"I'm no one's girlfriend, I've abstained from arcane mating habits thus far and don't intend to change," said Velma.

"Oh please. I see the way you two look at each other. If anything's arcane, it's what anyone sees in her." Then she stood up, flustered. "I gotta do something."

Velma shot up next. "Yeah. Me too."

Then Shaggy, Fred and Scooby were all that remained at the table after the girls stormed off in opposite directions.

Scooby whistled. The mid-morning sun had begun warming up the sand around them.

"Well then…" Fred said.

"Like yeah," Shaggy replied, scratching the back of his head.

Then, Scooby threw down a pack of cards. "Ro Fish?"

The guys shrugged and Shaggy shuffled the deck.

The next day, the girls still refused to speak to each other. After cleaning her notes off the van walls, Velma secluded herself on her bunk bed trying to bring a dead smart phone back to life. Daphne took the backseat and poured through an old hunting catalogue. Meanwhile, the guys tried to find a working radio station to lift their spirits.

"Just static," Shaggy said. "Man, I sure miss music."

"Back home, I used to have an old record player," Fred said.

"Yeah?"

"After a long day at school, I'd stretch out on my yoga mat and just listen to Austin Roberts for hours!"

Scooby and Shaggy exchanged glances.

"Yoga Mat?"

"Raustin Roberts?" said Scooby.

"You know Freddy, you're like a mystery wrapped in an enigma… or however the saying goes."

"Thanks! I think."

Suddenly, someone's voice sounded on the radio. But it wasn't a musician.

"Help!" it said.

Scooby's ears perked up.

"Hold it!" Fred said. "What was that?"

Shaggy turned up the volume.

"S.O.S. In immediate danger! Police force unreachable. Fire department not responding. Dangerous unspecified creatures attacking. Repeat: dangerous unspecified creatures are attacking! Send help!"

"Like, it sounds like another survivor!" said Shaggy.

"But where is it coming from?" Fred asked.

By this point, Daphne had dropped her magazine and leaned in over the front seat.

"…Running short of supplies. No escape. Send help! North 35.28, South -104.1. Please hurry!" Then his voice fizzled out.

"Daph, you go those coordinates?" asked Fred.

"On it." She tapped into the GPS and after a while looked up. "They're in Midsomer, New Mexico. It's a bit of a drive but…"

"Like, are you really thinking of going there?" asked Shaggy.

"If there's even a chance of finding other survivors, it's hardly a question. We have to help them," Daphne said. "Fred, we need to make a U-turn."

"Got it."

Everyone grabbed hold of something while he whipped the van around.

"Shouldn't we at least think about this?" Shaggy went on. "You know, as a _team_?"

"What's there to think about? People are in danger. We're going to help them," Daphne persisted.

"But like what if…"

"What if it's a trap?" asked Velma, emerging from the back. She'd given up on the cell phone.

"How could it be a trap?" Fred asked.

Daphne just tried to keep her hostility to a minimum.

"Some of these monsters are frighteningly intelligent. Something could be luring humans to this random town by way of a radio distress call to eat us." Velma said.

"You're insane. What if they're actually real survivors in desperate need of a rescue?" Daphne said.

"And you think _we_ can rescue them?" said Shaggy. "We can barely rescue ourselves."

"He has a roint," said Scooby.

"Scoob," said Daphne. "You were bred to be a rescue dog of sorts, right?"

"Rilitary experiment."

"Do you think we could save people from monsters?"

"Rell… re certainly have rhe fire power."

"None of us are on a search and rescue team, Daphne. Not even you. Shaggy's right. We can't help them except by reversing the Nanite coding."

"Spoken like a true coward. Both of you," said Daphne. "People are _dying_."

"People die every day!" said Velma.

"But this time by monsters you had a hand in creating! Every death is on your hands, Dr. Dinkley."

"How dare you!"

"It's time you stopped hiding behind excuses and took a chance for someone else!"

"Enough!" Fred shouted. He stopped the van. "Trap or no trap, it's the first real sign of other human beings. I say we take a vote. Ok?"

Neither Daphne nor Velma seemed ready to quit arguing. But they listened anyway.

"Ok. Now, raise your hand if you're in favor of ignoring the distress call."

"Well like, when you say it like that it sounds terrible," said Shaggy.

But Velma raised her hand. "We absolutely don't have time to take a chance on one town when the rest of the world is suffering," she said.

"And when you say it like _that_ , it seems like a no-brainer." He raised his hand.

Scooby seemed torn.

"All in favor of rescuing the people of Midsomer?" Fred said as he and Daphne raised their hands. Daphne's shot high up as she glared at the ground.

"Two and two," said Fred.

"Scoob, it's up to you," said Shaggy.

He whimpered.

"No one's gonna judge you either way you vote," Shaggy assured him.

"I will," said Daphne.

"Except for Daphne."

He dropped his head in thought. "I rink it's a rig risk."

"Sure is," Fred agreed.

"But, I also rink re have to risk it. People are rared. Re have to relp."

Shaggy rubbed his ears. "I'm proud of you buddy. You got more guts than I do."

Velma clucked her tongue and sat back down on the bunk. Daphne seemed content.

"Well then that settles it," said Fred. "We're comin' to the rescue."

!

They rolled to a stop before the town of Midsomer. The sun behind them was bright against blue sky. But here, a dusty mist settled over the streets. Abandoned vehicles clogged up the road and smashed into buildings. And everything was silent.

"Do we dare?" Shaggy asked.

"We did vote, Shagster," Fred reminded him.

"True but, there is such a thing as a recount."

"Not today," Daphne said, grabbing her rifle. "Let's move."

"Wait, where are you going?" Shaggy asked, his voice pinched with panic.

"There's a blockade. We have to go by foot," Fred said.

"B-but…!"

"It's ok, Raggy," Scooby said. "I'll rotect ru."

He sighed, and then grabbed his backpack and gun. "Well there's nowhere you're goin' that I'm not gonna fallow you, pal."

His tail wagged.

"I found a way for this trip to serve two life-saving purposes," said Velma as she stepped out of the van. "There's an electronics store a few blocks from here. After we address the people in distress, we might want to take a look."

"I doubt we'll have time for it," said Daphne.

"If we have time to save people that might not even be here, we have time to get a damn computer that can actually save _everyone_."

"Why so determined to play savior all the sudden? Feeling guilty?"

"Not now, you two," said Fred.

"If you haven't noticed, I've been trying to save us for weeks. But as you've forgotten, these conditions are a little difficult to work under."

"You know, you're very talented at making excuses, Dr. Dinkley."

"Guys, seriously!" said Shaggy. "We're about to advance onto some sketchy territory. Like, I know Velma's past is still a bit of a blur to us but if we could like work together in peace for a whole five seconds, that would be super great."

"I second that," said Fred.

Velma looked down at her feet while Daphne chewed on her bottom lip.

"Fine." Daphne said. Then she charged out ahead of them.

A whole day had passed since the phantom distress call. The message repeated with the same coordinates throughout that morning. But nothing since. It left everyone more stressed than usual.

Jittery, Velma tapped the pistol shoved inside her holster just to make sure it was there. With the portable GPS in hand, she followed the gang into the clouds of dirt hoping they could see better than her.

Daphne and Fred tied bandanas around their mouths and strapped on goggles. They walked side-by-side ever communicating in their own quiet way. They'd stop the gang periodically to make all was clear. But so far, nothing so threatening as a breeze rolled their way.

Scooby took the rear, sniffing around. With his tail between his legs, every little sound made him jump. But he said nothing.

Shaggy slowed down to walk alongside Velma.

"So like," he said in a whisper, "The coordinates the survivors gave us were for the town. But where in this town are they?"

"Good question," said Velma. "Perhaps the signs of mayhem and blood curdling screams will be a dead giveaway."

Shaggy paused. "I don't hear anything."

"I know."

He scratched is beard. "You think we're too late?"

Glaring at the back of Daphne's head she said, "No. I think some of us are too stupid to register a prank call when they hear one."

Daphne pretended not to hear.

Then Fred pointed at something.

"Look! A sign!"

And he was right.

Up ahead, spray-painted to the wall of a brick building in neon yellow read the words "Survivors This Way!" with an arrow pointing further up the road.

"See? There are survivors. Let's hurry!"

But Velma stopped in her tracks. "That is the dumbest clue I've ever…"

"Are you coming?" Daphne asked without a trace of patience.

"Seriously? Our Werewolf friend in Dangsville couldn't write a faker sign than that!"

"What do you mean fake?" asked Shaggy.

"What terrified human stops in the wide-open to advertise a safe-zone to any unfortunate person left in the streets?" Velma asked. "It would be suicide."

"So what do you think we're really going to find?" Daphne asked propping her fists against her hips.

"Literate monsters. We need to leave."

"Guys!" Fred called from the distance. They could barely see him. "I found another one!"

Shaggy looked between Velma and Daphne waiting for a decision. Scooby had sidled up beside his legs, keeping watch over the road behind them.

"Well we already voted. So we're going to see this through." Daphne decided.

"We're going to get killed," said Velma.

"Maybe _you_ will if you don't stop getting on my nerves."

"Is that a threat?" Velma asked.

Scooby growled.

"Like there is an easier way to solve this!" said Shaggy, stepping between them. "It's called buckling our asses into the van and never coming back here."

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Gang?" Fred called again. "You coming?"

Then Daphne whipped around. "Let's go."

Shaggy, Velma and Scooby hesitated, watching the "leaders" embark on the dusty landscape.

"Well," said Shaggy, looking to her. "I'm with you whatever you decide."

She half smirked. "Why's that?"

"'Cause I don't think you'd shoot me for cowardice."

She chuckled but her laugh dwindled to a sigh. "Regardless of their bullheadedness, I think we stand a better chance as a team."

He grimaced. "Ok then."

They passed three more yellow arrows within the following hour and still there wasn't a sign of life anywhere. They just wound deeper and deeper into the town. At this point, all the abandoned, window-shattered buildings looked the same and the dust never really settled. If the GPS weren't keeping track of their steps, Velma would say they were walking in circles.

Suddenly, Scooby's sniffing intensified.

Then, Shaggy's flashlight found something along a building's wall. A creature's carcass slumped at the base while something had been scrawled from its blood. The handwriting looked different from the yellow paint.

"'Deliver us.'" He read aloud.

A nearby doorway creaked open and shut, tormented by the tunneling drafts within the building. But it kept bumping into something as it tried to close.

Scooby stopped his sniffing. His body stilled and his eyes went blank.

"Like what's this?" Shaggy said.

The beam of light fell over the body of a young woman wedged between the swinging door and its frame. Shaggy staggered. He backed away going ashen.

"What did you find?" asked Daphne.

He swallowed back vomit. "The so-called survivors."

Bodies littered the floor of the building, torn open with their limbs ripped off. The hallway went deep disappearing into shadow.

"There are other humans!" said Fred.

" _Were_ ," Velma corrected. "There _were_ other humans." Then she crouched beside the nearest one, covering her nose in her turtleneck. The cold flesh had swollen and maggots infested their bodies.

"W-where are the survivors?" Daphne asked, dropping her guard. She tore off her goggles and bandanna. "Hello?" she called, "Is anyone there?"

"Daph, stop!" said Fred. "Who knows what's out here?"

"But there are people in trouble, Freddy. They have to know we're here to help."  
Velma shook her head, but not proudly. "This is it," she said, referring to the last yellow arrow. It pointed down at the dead.

Daphne went pale.

"They did last for some while, though. Looks like they were some kind of resistance," said Velma, "Judging by the way they've armed themselves."

They had mere shotguns strapped to them, nothing as technologically advanced as the arsenal stocked up in the Mystery Machine.

"But, resisting what exactly?" Daphne said. "Where are the monsters?"

"Do we really wanna find out?" Shaggy asked still recovering. The color had yet to return to his face. In the meantime, he leaned against a damaged Volkswagen for support. Scooby nuzzled his side.

Velma studied the woman's wounds and the desperate way her cold hand clung to the gun. Her swollen eyes hadn't shut, but stared off in blank horror.

Agonizing guilt settled inside her like poison. It pierced her core and began to disperse into her blood. Her eyes closed.

"Like, I guess this is how we all end up." Shaggy said, finally beginning to breathe easier.

The gang looked back at him.

"Dead in our futile resistance!"

Daphne seemed ready to smack him. "Don't say that!"

Velma shook her head thinking he was right. _This could be us_.

"You're wrong, Shaggy," said Fred. "We have a plan…"

"Like, I'm sure they had plans too!"

As an argument started, Velma thought of something a little more urgent.

"Guys. When did we receive the call?" she asked. "Two days ago?"

They stopped bickering.

"When did we receive the call?" she asked. "Two days ago?"

"Yesterday," said Daphne.

Velma stood up. "These people have been dead for a week. There's no way any of them called yesterday."

"So, if they've been dead all this time, then who called us?" Fred asked.

Shaggy gulped, "A ghost?"

Velma looked out into the dusty town. "Let's hope."

Suddenly, Scooby erupted into a fit of violent barking. His hackles raised and he bared his teeth. Everyone jumped at attention.

"Scooby! Scooby Doo! What is it?" Shaggy asked, cowering beside his dog.

The gang closed in, readying their weapons.

Then a creature's shadowy image emerged from the dust. It crossed the street toward them growing steadily clearer.

Scooby's barking quieted to crazed growls.

The creature's outline became more man-like.

 _Is it… could it be?_ Velma hoped.

And then it split in half into two creeping creatures.

"Run!" Shaggy yelled. He and Scooby took off like bullets.

"Wait!" Fred called.

"Actually," said Daphne as the two creatures neared. "I think they have the right idea this time."

Before the short, round, sniggering creatures came into full view, it was clear they weren't human.

"Agreed," said Velma.

Instantly, her short legs had her chasing after the gang.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

They ran for their lives through the dust-clogged town and desert heat. Velma fought to keep up, managing to stay on Daphne's heels. She didn't know where they were going only that turning back wasn't an option.

Then someone shrieked. It sounded like Shaggy.

She rammed right into Daphne.

"Ow!"

"Watch it!"

The gang had stopped. Up ahead, Velma could see several large beings advancing on them.

"DETOUR!" Shaggy shouted as he and Scooby flew past them, heading in a new direction.

"Right behind you!" Fred called.

The girls didn't hesitate to follow.

At once, vicious growls pursued. Velma spared one glance back and immediately regretted it.

Hideous beings with giant mouths ran after them. Veiny and muscled, they were like oversized men with skin of melted, green rubber. Fangs gleamed behind their lips with yellow fish-eyes goggling at them.

Somehow, her legs found a way to move quicker.

The five of them darted down a narrow street. Death covered every stretch of sidewalk. Skeletons and rotting monsters littered her view. She had to jump over a bulky creature's corpse that swarmed with maggots. The heat worsened the stench so much she thought she'd choke.

Already, she began to feel the weight of heat slow her pace. Not even her adrenaline could combat the temperature.

To her horror, a handful of these lean, fish-eyed mutants appeared in the distance. They cut off their exit.

The gang slowed.

Daphne whipped around, finding the other monsters still gaining on them.

"This way!" Fred shouted.

Immediately, the gang followed him through a doorway inside an old warehouse. The guys slammed it shut as soon as the girls were through. Scooby barked wildly, panting harder than ever.

Daphne found an old desk and slid it against the door.

Outside, the mutants pounded on the door, the walls, and the boarded-up windows. Their roars tore at their ears while their claws slashed against the building.

The gang stood there, bent over and drenched in sweat. Velma dropped to the cool ground desperate for water.

"W-what now?" Shaggy asked. He tugged his soaking shirt, trying to get some air. His arms glistened.

Fred slid out of his scarf and goggles. "The van," he said between breaths. "We gotta get back to it."

Velma looked around at the giant facility. There was an old forklift, a few wooden boxes and plenty of dust. On the back wall, an iron ladder climbed up to who-knows-where with the rest of the doors and windows nailed shut.

Then she pulled out her GPS, slick from her sweaty hands.

"It's eleven blocks south of here," she said.

"Zoinks," said Shaggy. "Can we call an Uber?"

The door jostled as the monsters pounded on it, ravenous.

"This is all my fault," said Daphne. "If I hadn't insisted we try to help survivors we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"We took a vote, Daph," Fred said. "It's no one's fault. You were trying to do a good thing."

Velma refrained from commenting.

Scooby turned away from the gang, suddenly entranced by some distant smell. His nose bobbed up and down.

"Scoob?" said Shaggy.

He didn't respond.

"Let's think of a plan," Fred decided, drawing back their attention. "We're eleven blocks north of our ride. We don't know where the monsters are coming from only that they know we're here now."

"Because they _called_ us," Velma couldn't help but mumble.

Daphne glared at her. "Right, because your big brain has been so helpful thus far!" she said, almost seething.

"Focus!" shouted Fred.

A mutant broke his hand through the door.

"Like, let's focus somewhere else!"

"Rover rere!" called Scooby. He'd bounded across the warehouse to the ladder. Already he began climbing.

The gang followed and found themselves in a loft-like spot overlooking the main floor. There was a door to the roof but they weren't ready to leave the coolness of the ceiling's shade. The mutants hadn't broken completely through the barricade yet, but it wouldn't hold them for long.

Shaggy slid out of his backpack and pulled out a jug of water. They passed it around and drained it in minutes.

"I only got a bottle left. We'll have to spare it."

"You think we should wait until night to run?" asked Velma, "So we escape the heat?"

"There will be more monsters then. They always multiply at dark," Fred said.

"Plus, I don't think we'll have that kind of time," said Shaggy.

A crash sounded and the metal desk flew across the floor. Instantly, furious mutants poured inside in search of their prey.

Daphne readied her rifle. "Get your weapons," she said.

Quickly, Velma tapped through the GPS. "I found the quickest way to the van."

As one of the mutants started up the ladder, fish-eyes locked onto them, Daphne picked him off with a single shot. The sound alerted the rest of them and they swarmed towards it.

"To the roof!" said Fred.

They darted outside, momentarily blinded by the sun. The air was clear from this height and the sun burned hotter than ever. Far below, the roads were nearly invisible.

"Quick! The fire escape!" Fred said.

"Then where?" asked Shaggy.

Daphne took the rear, walking backwards and keeping her rifle pointed at the door.

Scooby stopped again, suddenly distracted by another smell.

"Go straight for two blocks, then make a right at Cactus Avenue," said Velma.

"You ready, Scooby?" asked Shaggy, approaching the metal fire escape. It was hot to the touch.

"Ruh?"

"Scoob? You ok?"

The dog seemed lost.

"Hurry!" Daphne urged. The door rattled against pounding fists.

As if woken, Scooby leapt ahead. He and Shaggy took the lead with Fred close behind. His forearm accidentally brushed the railing.

"Youch!" Fred said. He turned back with new welt forming on his skin. "Whatever you do, don't touch the railing!"

Velma nodded, then descended.

The iron stair trembled under their footsteps. Velma's balance wavered between her uncoordinated feet and the shaking stairway. She wanted to catch the railing for support, but thought better of it.

"Move!" Daphne urged.

Finally reaching the lowest step, she realized it was still several feet above the sidewalk. The guys had already jumped down, one at a time. But Velma paused. Even as the mutants roared overhead, she suddenly remembered she was scared of heights.

"Uh…" she uttered, trying to find away to ease her way down.

"Come on, Velm!" Shaggy called from below.

Fred had his goggles on and rifle poised. They heard movement but saw nothing through the clouds of dust. Scooby remained alert.

Shaggy held out his arms. "Just jump, I got you!" His tone was urgent.

Still panicked, Velma hesitated.

Then Daphne shoved her. Velma flew off and crash-landed onto Shaggy. He staggered back but managed to catch her. However, the GPS flew out of her hands and smashed onto the concrete.

"Jinkies!" she cried.

Careful, Shaggy put her down, lowering her at the waist.

"Like, are you ok?" he asked.

She hardly paid him any attention as she scrambled for the fallen device. "It's broken!" she said, looking into its shattered screen.

Landing firmly on the ground, Daphne looked as apologetic as a bully with the new kid's lunch money. "Well it was either you or the machine and I chose you. You're welcome," she said earning several scowls. "What? I'm just being pragmatic."

Velma dropped the pieces. "It's just lucky for all of you I have a photographic memory."

"And if we get thrown off course? What then?" asked Shaggy.

"Well," said Daphne, looking up at the suddenly crowded rooftop. "We shoot some monsters."

"Ok, gang! So far so clear, let's move!" Fred said, motioning them forward.

Scooby started toward a different direction, his ears peeled back.

"C'mon, Scoob!" called Shaggy.

The dog didn't move at first. But as the gang started up the block, he eventually followed.

They didn't get so far as halfway to Cactus Avenue before shrieking, fish-eyed cretins emerged from hiding.

Shaggy froze, but Daphne wasn't stopping. She jumped out ahead.

"FIRE!" she shouted. Then she whipped out a grenade, bit off the plug and flung it into the street. The gang ducked as the explosion ripped up the road and several mutants.

"Forward!" Fred shouted, using the monsters' brief distraction to their advantage.

Velma barely had a chance to regain her balance before they bolted through the burning rubble. Her ears rang and her chest throbbed. But she couldn't lag behind. With her hands freed, she pulled out her pistol. The moment she heard so much as a grunt, she looked back and fired. Her last shot merely grazed a beast.

They raced down the block, Daphne and Fred leading the charge. Velma tried to pick off the followers, but she was only so coordinated.

Scooby's tongue flapped between his razor teeth as he ran. All around, the creatures closed inward, filling up the street, emerging from empty places and gaining on them.

Shaggy was fast, but he was useless with a weapon. His rifle strap flapped around his shoulder while he held the thing with its nose straight up. If he was hunting birds, Velma figured that'd be fine.

But the mutants were getting closer.

"Shaggy! On your left!" Velma warned.

A hideous thing launched after him, claws bared and mouth open.

Shaggy dodged it. Velma jumped over it. They kept running.

"You need to shoot!" Velma said, as the creature scrambled to its feet, angrier than ever.

Shaggy barely glanced back. "But they were people!"

Velma didn't want to waste her breath arguing over the ethics of shooting mutants again. She wasn't athletic enough for a debate mid-run.

Suddenly, Fred stopped.

The gang looked around wildly for the holdup.

Daphne shot off a handful of followers, including the one Shaggy avoided. It gave them a chance to catch their breath.

"What's up?" asked Shaggy, panting.

Scooby's head and tail drooped.

Fred, exhausted, pointed up at a sign. "Cactus Avenue."

Velma wanted to collapse. Her chest constricted so tightly she thought she'd suffocate. Bent over, she grabbed her trembling knees. The sweat trickling down her back felt like burning ants marching to battle.

"Sharp right," Velma said, "Left on Beetle Street."

Fred nodded. "All right, gang. Nine more blocks. We can do this."

Velma thought she'd pass out right there. But she wasn't alone in her misery. Daphne's face burned redder than her hair and she blinked back the sweat falling around her eyes. Only Shaggy seemed too distracted by his fear to notice the blistering heat. He was ready to run.

With the others in mind, she stood up and swallowed back her nausea.

 _Nine more blocks and then you can throw up._

Shaggy's hair nearly shot out of his head. "They're here!"

"Go! Go! Go!" Fred said.

He didn't run, but set a fast pace. Velma was beyond grateful for not sprinting, even if it left Shaggy more unsettled. He could probably bolt as far as the next county with all his frightened energy. Sorely, Velma envied him.

Beetle Street was only half a block away and they reached it quickly.

"Three blocks south!" Velma called, breathing heavily.

Without pause, they dashed across the street to the uncharted territory of a dusty alleyway crawling with the sounds of hungry creatures. The odor of rotting flesh filled this passage too.

Suddenly, Velma couldn't hold it in.

She doubled over and vomited into a storm drain. The creatures slithering inside it scattered. It came out hot and forced, leaving her breathless. Stars glittered across her sight.

Daphne and Fred's guns fired in rapid succession. Bone snapped and cretins screamed in agony. She heard the blood splatter. Smelled the stench of an overheated firearm.

Everything stank of overcooked metal.

Then, she felt water pouring over her face.

"Drink this," said Shaggy, bringing a water bottle to her lips. But the moment it got down her throat, it chucked back up. The bile scraped her throat like lava. Black spots blotted out parts of Shaggy's face.

Scooby barked more ferociously than she'd ever heard. His mouth chomped, his body shook.

The growling grew nearer.

"They're getting too close!" Daphne shouted.

A heavy body clattered to the pavement hardly a foot away. It moaned a monstrous, gargled sound.

"Come on, Velms," said Shaggy, in a reassuring tone. "We're almost there."

Her head shook. "We're not."

"Eight and a half more blocks," Fred counted.

"Just my point."

She felt Shaggy's hands try to pull her up. "We gotta move."

Her legs trembled. Weak. "Just leave me."

"Out of the question." Then he swung her over his shoulder. The sudden jolt made her vomit again.

"RUN!" cried Daphne.

Velma jostled in Shaggy's grip. It didn't help her nausea in the slightest, slapped against his sweaty body. She wanted to roll onto the ground and die.

 _Could death really be worse?_

Head spinning, her consciousness slipping, she watched the world pass by as through a shaking camera. Slightly larger creatures with red snake-like eyes joined the hunt. Their slimy tails waved behind them, excited by the chase.

Staring into the blood red eyes of one particular beast, she picked up her pistol.

 _You can have me_ , she thought. _But not them_.

She fired.

Its face exploded in a mess of blood and fell back against another mutant behind it.

They eventually made it to the three-block mark. Crossroads Boulevard.

Daphne dropped against a building and quickly reloaded. Fred covered her, eyes wild.

"Slight right," Velma said in a gritty voice. She cleared her throat. "Road merges onto Red Stone Walk."

"Like thanks, SIRI," said Shaggy.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

Velma could feel Shaggy's laboring breath and the wild heat steaming off his body. He smelled terrible.

"Put me down," she said.

"Six," he said, stopping to breathe. "More."

She hooked her arm around his neck, the other one hanging off to the side with a smoking pistol in her grip.

"You're crazy," she said.

He didn't respond.

Scooby whined, starting toward the new street. Anxious to run.

And then there were hundreds of them. Screeches filled the town as hordes of mutants filled their view.

They didn't wait for Fred's command to move. The gang bounded toward Red Stone Walk as hard as they could.

Velma held Shaggy tight, shooting off her gun until it emptied out. Daphne halted for a moment, let Shaggy and Scooby run past, and then chucked another grenade behind her. The explosion shook the ground while debris scattered over them.

Fred shot down a giant gorilla-like beast that lunged into view. His bullets tore holes through its chest as it crumpled onto the dusty road.

Velma stared at its corpse as they raced by. She realized the monsters were getting bigger.

After tearing down the next five blocks, leaving behind a trail of carnage, they came across Main Street's eighty-car pile-up. She stared aghast. She didn't remember them being piled up like this. And yet the smashed vehicles acted as a barricade of sharp glass and burning hot steel.

Just beyond the wall waited the Mystery Machine.

Fred studied the road ahead, then looked back at the gang. "We can't get through. We have to go around."

Velma was slipping, and the grip that was once firm lacked. Shaggy could barely breathe. Trying to untangle herself, he all of the sudden dropped. Coughing violently, his skin burning red, he was on his knees dangerously overheated.

Scooby rushed to his side, licking up the side of his face.

Velma, even with her vision fading in and out, scrambled for the water in his pack. The nausea rolled around, but she had nothing left to puke. Pushing through, all she found in the bag were salted nuts and those damned Tasty Cakes. The water was gone.

" _Twinkies_?" she said, almost accusingly.

He shrugged.

For a second, Velma thought she saw a flying disc glittering in the sky. She wondered how much longer she had until she passed out now that she was hallucinating.

Then, Daphne's rifle drooped. Her green eyes scanned the horizon behind them.

"They've stopped," she said.

The gang looked and watched as hundreds of mutants ranging in size and color stood back in a wide arch around them.

"Jinkies."

"What's goin' on?" asked Fred.

Suddenly, the ground shook. A deep growl like thunder reverberated overhead. Massive stomps boomed nearer and nearer until a shadowy form appeared in the mist.

Then it stepped into view with a foot the size of a small car.

Their jaws dropped.

"Well," said Shaggy. "I guess I've seen it all."

Then the massive beast let out a deafening roar.

"GANG! MOVE!" shouted Fred.

Shaggy tried to scramble to his feet. Velma got so far as her knees before her head spun around. Then Daphne yanked her up by the arms. She grunted from the effort, but didn't slow down.

"On my back!" she hollered.

Velma obeyed, and slumped weakly against her backside.

Fred hurried to Shaggy's side.

"Quick, give me your - !" and then the massive creature swung one foot forward and kicked Fred clear across the street.

Shaggy froze.

"FRED!" Daphne screamed. Before running to him, she glared up at the monster. She slid a machete free from her side and hurried around behind the monster's feet.

"Daph?" said Velma. "What are you…?"  
"Take this, Ogre!" shouted Daphne in a rage. She then swiped the blade clean through its Achilles' heel. With one slice, hot brown blood spilled out like oil. The beast didn't register the pain at first.

She ran to the other foot and sliced that one too. Then, with Velma still on her back, gored machete in one hand and rifle in the other, she found Shaggy on his feet. He and Scooby followed her until they stumbled upon an unconscious Fred lying in a heap against a smashed car.

Daphne dropped beside him and started slapping his cheeks.

"Fred? Freddy? Can you hear me?"

He was breathing. But a fresh gash on the side of his head wasn't reassuring.

The monster grumbled behind them. It would be feeling the burning pain by now. Velma cringed just thinking about it.

It tried to walk… and then began slipping on its own blood.

"Oh boy…" said Shaggy.

The beast shot out its arms to balance itself. And then gravity took over. It tipped forward, its shadow darkening around them.

"Like, timber!"

He and Daphne grabbed Fred's arms and they dragged him as fast as they could. Scooby tugged at his shirt, growling as he pulled.

Velma watched in horror as if everything now moved in slow motion.

The hideous fanged mouth, the enormous pig snout, it all rushed toward them like a chunk of broken sky. She clung to Daphne, nearly strangling her.

Daphne and Shaggy strained themselves, yanking Fred out of range.

But it came down too quickly.

"JINKIES!"

She shut her eyes.

And then it landed a hair shy of Fred's feet.

The ground rocked, dust pillared to the sky and the gang flew off in all directions. Velma shot off Daphne's back. She smacked the pavement with a clap and rolled into a car. It winded her.

It took a while, but she woke to the sound of coughing. Shaggy laid several feet away choking on dust. Scooby staid close and shook the dirt from his coat.

Resilient, Daphne crawled back to Fred. She shook his shoulder, called his name. Ripping off her goggles, she pressed her ear to his chest. Pinching his nose, she dove in to give mouth-to-mouth. After the first two breaths, he still didn't stir.

The claws of guilt snagged Velma's core. She picked up her head staring at the two hoping he wasn't dead. Then she realized it wasn't just guilt that willed him to live, but terror.

Without him, who could reign in Daphne's wrath?

 _Please live._

Daphne dove in a third time.

Suddenly, Fred's arms came to life. They swung around her and pulled her down. He kissed her passionately.

At first, Daphne seemed to kiss him back. But then she wriggled herself out his grasp and smacked him across the face.

"Fred Jones!" she said, face red with anger rather than heat.

He laughed, "Sorry Daph I just…"

She wiped her eyes. "You're an idiot. I thought you were dead!" Then she smacked his chest. "Get up."

He was trying to apologize, but he couldn't stop laughing. "I really am sorry. I merely thought that you wanted me to."

She was on her feet and looking murderous.

But she wasn't the only one.

The mutants closed in around them, though hesitant.

"Their leader is dead," said Velma, pushing herself up. Shaggy pulled her to her feet. With his help, she could remain on her own two feet.

Fred swallowed. "Does that mean Daphne's queen or…?"

"Like, I think it's vengeance they want," said Shaggy.

Then Scooby barked. He pointed to a narrow, winding path through the pile of cars. It was dangerous, full of razor edges and shattered glass. But it was an escape.

For the first time, Velma thought she'd witnessed a real miracle.

"Lead the way," said Fred.

The gang backed away from the emerging mutants. And then they darted into the pathway.

Shaggy helped Velma through, letting her lean on his arm. He had to walk sideways for the narrowest bits.

As they ventured deeper, what Velma first thought as a miracle slowly turned into a nightmare. She realized the unbalanced vehicles stacked up around them with their rusting parts and shattered windows could collapse at any second. They'd be crushed, stabbed and burned. Shards of blazing steel stuck out like fiery blades. One clumsy move and she'd scorch an irreparable gash on her skin.

Fred, being the largest, struggled the most just to fit through. Gritting his teeth, the shards nicked his arms and tore his shirt.

Daphne kept to the back, her final rounds ready to shoot down any followers.

But Velma was less concerned of individual followers squeezing through and more about hundreds of beasts shaking the ground… and thus upsetting the fragile balance of their pathway.

Scooby maneuvered at a steady pace, untroubled by the walls. Instead, he seemed morbidly fixated on something else.

And then she felt it. The trembling of the earth beneath. Angry roars filled the air. Daphne's gun went off.

Overhead, the highest cars rattled.

She held her breath.

In the distance, she heard the dreaded crash of glass and steel smashing into more steel. Shaggy, also registering their danger, moved quicker.

The walls wavered.

Suddenly, after one sharp turn, the exit appeared. Scooby darted out into the open and Shaggy nearly dragged Velma along. A bent car hood scraped her arm, and though it burned, she didn't care. Trembling, she too jumped out into the open.

There ahead of them sat the Mystery Machine in its shimmering glory. She marveled at its stupid, orange paint job just in awe. She wanted to cry.

Then, the shattering of hundreds of cars echoed behind them, followed by the screams of countless mutants.

Fred and Daphne jumped out just in time. A trailing, blue-scaled creature tried to follow, but all too soon the car wall crumpled from within. They crushed the mutant there, its clawed arms reaching out, desperate. Half free. And there it lingered, moaning in its slow, suffocating death.

Shaggy, only seeing the Mystery Machine, almost laughed.

"We're here! We're…!"

And in a matter of seconds, all that hope and excitement ripped away.

Suddenly, a furry creature launched out of the dust and pounced on Scooby. Scooby yelped and the two tumbled violently down the street. The gang froze in horror as this small but ferocious thing tore into Scooby's flesh with flashing, jagged teeth.

Shaggy jumped into action, hands outstretched.

"Shaggy, no!" Velma shouted too late.

The creature whipped back its head and crushed Shaggy's left wrist in its jaws. He shrieked as blood squirted from his arm.

Daphne ran in, Fred with her. She swung her rifle at the creature, but missed. The creature in turn bit her leg. Fred kicked it off, carrying her away.

It was like a dog, but worse than a dog.

Velma's face whitened with horror when its flickering headgear and familiar from struck her with recognition.

It was a Smart Dog.

Scooby squealed, barely able to fight. He was on his back and drenched in blood. His movements slowed.

Proud and gleaming, the violent Smart Dog went for his throat.

But Shaggy, enraged, grabbed its scruff. He wrenched it off of Scooby. Then he hurled him against the wall of broken cars.

The dog shrieked and fell still.

Panting, pressing his wrist against his chest, Shaggy knelt beside Scooby, cupping his head in his palm.

"Scoob, ol' pal! Scooby, talk to me, man!"

But Scooby could only whimper. His big eyes wandered up toward Shaggy's face, lost in pain. "Raggy?"

Shaking there, Velma watched helpless when a greenish mist floated over them. It didn't smell like anything, but it came in thick and blinding.

Through the obscured clouds, Velma noticed the two, short and round sniggering creatures from earlier that day. They stood watching, holding some kind of gas-blowing machine.

She could hear them laughing.

And then the fumes ripped what remained of her fight and she dropped unconscious. The last thing she remembered was another sighting of that flying disc. Only this time, it was enormous and hovering right above them.

It poured out a brilliant light and for a second she felt weightless. Then everything went black.

!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _One year ago at the complex_

The intern stared at her as she came down the hall clutching a clipboard, a clipboard full of promising ideas. When she stopped by his desk, he winked.

"I've been thinking about lately, Dr. Velma Dinkley," said Malvern Boyle, her interning assistant.

She grimaced. "Great, Mal. Now think about your job for a little while. Get my superiors some coffee from the eighth floor. Not the vending machine down the hall."

He stammered. "The _eighth_ floor?"

"Yes. It's the one above the seventh. I trust you can count."

He sneered

"Now go." Her attention had already left him even as he continued to grouse. "Mr. Rogers."

Shaggy Rogers and his Smart Canine numbered 24602 stopped midstride.

"Y'know," said Shaggy, "Every time somebody calls me that I feel like singin' to puppets about what a beautiful day in the neighborhood it is. And taking off my shoes."

"Please refrain from doing either," she said and adjusted her glasses. "You and Scooby Doo were spotted outside the complex again. Care to explain?"

"Uh…" Shaggy said while looking to Scooby for an answer.

"I'm raustrophobic," said the dog with an innocent shrug.

"Like yeah. He was feeling trapped."

"Dr. Dinkly!" Mal shouted. He'd apparently been trying to get her attention all this time.

"Have you returned with that coffee so quickly?" she asked, her head barely reaching his chin.

"I'll have you know I have more important things to do than run around this building fetching coffee!"

"Like what? Providing more distasteful content for the HR department to pour through? Do your job or you're fired."

He leaned over her with squinty eyes and jiggling double chin. Slicking back his greasy hair he said, "You act so tough. But I bet if you let a guy show you a good time, you wouldn't be so anal." He licked his lips.

"Thought provoking. Now make haste with the coffee. I don't need more caffeine-deprived scientists on my hands."

"I know what _else_ I'd like to put in your hands," he muttered under his breath as he begrudgingly started down the hall.

Scooby and Shaggy watched him go with concerned looks.

"So _that's_ Creepy Mal?" Shaggy asked after he was out of earshot.

"He will soon be _unemployed_ Mal. And perhaps so will you," Velma said pivoting on her heels. "You know the rules about the Smart Dogs. You cannot take them on unauthorized outings. Consider this your _last_ warning."

"B-but…!"

"Got it? Or are you going to make an obscene romantic offer too?"

He gulped. "Like, I already got a scary girlfriend."

"Congrats." She brushed past him and began pouring over her clipboard.

Then Scooby Doo whimpered something to Shaggy.

"Uh, like, Dr. Dinkly?" Shaggy started.

She sighed. "Yes?"

"Well like, Scoob is kinda different from the other dogs. I think that maybe, perhaps with your permission we could…"

She looked at him and the hopeful Smart Dog. His headset flickered with emojis of sad faces and little hearts.

"Rogers, you do good work here. Scooby has shown remarkable improvement since you started. I'd hate to see him relapse if you were gone. Please, for his sake, follow the rules. There's a reason we have them."

His head sunk, "Yes, Doctor."

Satisfied, she left them.

Shaggy rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at the dog.

"You still think my girlfriend is scarier than her?" he asked.

"Roh yeah," he said. "Rig time."

"Come on. She's not so bad… is she?"

"Raggy, I'm a dog. Rut I know scary rhen I see it."

Not long after, Velma stood outside the door of the Four's work room. To everyone else, they were just her bosses. To her, they were the infamous, intimidating and brilliant Four. From outside their conference-room door, she heard them conversing. She was about to barge right in and give a report on the soon-to-come coffee when she heard her name.

"…Poor old Velma," said one. It sounded like Derek, the inventor. "I almost thought for a second she'd be tough enough but all I've seen is the same old sickly school-girl she's always been."

"Yeah, she pops pain-killers like they're candy for her many _headaches_ ," Victor, the 'War Hero,' of the Four said.

"I bet all this work will wipe her out before the end of the year," said Harvey without a shred of sympathy. It sounded like a bet. As a sharp-minded businessman, his predictions usually weren't wrong.

"I think your vision for a 'Golden Age' was a bit much for the girl, Harvey," said Ralph the politician with a laugh.

"And she came so highly recommended!" Harvey replied.

"We should keep our eye on her and make sure she doesn't drop dead!" Derek again.

They laughed.

Velma stepped back. They were laughing about her _dying_.

They'd _invited_ her into their complex almost two years ago. They wanted her brain, her mental prowess, her unparalleled knowledge… and she offered her great power without hesitation. And yet they more than doubted her, they thought she'd out right die under the strain.

And they wouldn't care if she did.

Thinking about her clipboard, the great ideas she'd envisioned for all mankind scribbled over its pages, she realized they weren't ready for it. They might never be.

No. She'd do this herself where their grubby, selfish hands couldn't dirty her brilliance.

 _I'll show them yet_ , she thought. _One day they'll learn whom they're dealing with_. _And they'll be sorry._

!

 _Present Day New Mexico_

"Hey wow, that's really neat!" said Fred from across the room. The space looked like half an art studio and half a kitchen.

Daphne rolled her eyes at Fred, absentmindedly stirring a glass of iced tea. Slumped in her chair, she looked like she could be nursing a hangover. But that most certainly wasn't the case.

Meanwhile, Velma couldn't stop eying the alien in the room.

She looked perfectly human with her long black hair, beaky nose and painted brown lips. But unbeknownst to the rest of the gang, she'd figured out the woman's little secret. She was a spaceship-driving extra-terrestrial, and so was the "golden retriever" sleeping on the linoleum.

"When he said he had 'pictures'," said Daphne, "I thought he meant photographs. Not _paintings_ "

"Hey girls, look at this one!" Fred said while he and an old alien fanatic named Lester filed through dozens of canvases. He held out a nighttime desert landscape. In the sky a UFO glittered among a million stars. It was beautiful. Hand painted by Lester himself.

But it did nothing to forward the man's efforts of proving that aliens existed.

Rubbing her temples, Velma couldn't stop seeing the irony everywhere.

"Yeah, that one was a real beauty!" Lester said. "Should've seen her in person. Sure was somethin'. The paint barely captures it though."

Daphne snorted. "Then why didn't you use a damn camera?" she muttered under her breath. Only Velma heard her.

"I think you capture the emotion," said the alien girl. She hadn't even turned around from making lunch and yet seemed to know exactly the painting to which they referred. Velma gathered she'd seen all of them at least a thousand times. "That is something cold unfeeling machines cannot do."

"I reckin' you're onto somethin' there, Crissy," said Lester. Then he turned to Fred. "Poor girl. Found her an' a dog all alone in the middle of the desert! Couldn't believe my eyes. To this day I don't know how they got there. But if I weren't out paintin' that night I tremble t'think what'd become of 'em."

"You mean she's not really your daughter?"

"'Course she is! Just not that fleshy blood sort."

"Tortillas are done," said the human-looking girl named Crystal. She brought over a hot plate of soft tortillas stuffed with grilled chicken, black beans and cheese. The girls dug in at once.

"Whoa, save some for the rest of us!" Fred said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Lester joined him while nursing a not-so-discreet flask of whiskey.

Velma didn't get through her second bite before wondering how Shaggy and Scooby were doing. She hadn't seen them since the gang's "abduction". If the two scaredy-cats were conscious, they were most likely starving.

"These are amazing!" said Daphne. She inhaled half the dish.

"Wow, calm down, _Shaggy_ ," Fred teased.

Daphne ignored him and took another. She bit into it with a loud chomp.

"I am glad you are pleased," Crystal said with a polite smile.

"You've no idea!" Fred went on. "It's been months since we've had food this good. How long have we been on the road again?"

Velma swallowed her sip of iced tea. "Two and a half months now."

"Yeah. Two and a half months on the road can really make you appreciate good, hot food."

"All this time an' you kids ain't been eaten?" said Lester. "That there's some good bit o' luck."

"'Luck' is a ludicrous superstition," said Velma. "Timing spared us from mutation. And teamwork has kept us alive ever since."

Then Fred pursed his lips. "Hey, Lester, how'd you and your daughter escape the Nanite mutation?"

"Well, we still ain't sure how Crissy managed. But durin' the _Changing_ as I call it," he leaned in, "I was abducted by a blue woman from outer space!"

Daphne blinked. "You what?"

"It's the honest truth! I was out paintin' as usual. Then suddenly this flying disc comes down real close and beams me up!"

Fred stopped chewing.

"I was terrified! But the alien that done strapped me to a chair up there didn't so much as take my temperature. She knocked me out with somethin', and when I wake up in my bed next day, the whole world had gone to pieces! I'm tellin' you: either that alien saved my life, or she done dropped me in a parallel universe. Dunno if I oughta be grateful or pissed as a donkey with a toothache." He took a swig of his flask. "But here we are."

Velma put down her tortilla and watched the alien woman that sat beside Daphne. She was all smiles and warmth.

"So Crystal," Velma started. "How did you rescue us again?"

She sipped her iced tea. "Like I said, Amber and I were driving in search of survivors," she said, Amber being her dog. "We received many distress calls over the radio. That is when we found you and carried you into my Jeep. It was not easy. But I came prepared with stretchers and everything."

Velma leaned back. "That's it? Just you and your dog drove down to Midsomer, loaded us in your car, and drove on up the plateau to Lester's house?"

She nodded. "We did."

"How'd you lift Freddy?"

Crystal seemed confused.

"And how'd you avoid the sleeping gas coming from those two creeps in the road?"

"I beg your pardon I do not remember any 'creeps'." said Crystal.

"Are you interrogating her?' Daphne asked.

"I'm just asking for clarification."

"On what? The minute details of her daring rescue? I don't care if she piled us into a U-Haul. We nearly died out there. If Crystal hadn't shown up when she did we'd be dead by now."

"Fine, you're right, I'm sorry. It just seemed like a lot of work for just one person."

"I am a professional firefighter," said Crystal. "Or, I was before the _Changing_. But do not worry. I knew what I was doing."

"Thank you, Crystal," said Daphne. "Again." Then she shot a look at Velma.

 _Whatever. I know what I saw_ , she thought to herself remembering the flying disc and the huge beam of light.

Lester lived atop a plateau not even a mile from Midsomer. His was the only house on this lonely spot, making it safe from the horrors of the Nanite Plague. Two days ago Crystal found the gang collapsed at the entrance into town and nursed them to health in some of the spare rooms.

Now after proper treatment, rest and rehydration Velma could finally walk around without toppling over or throwing up. But she couldn't speak much for the rest of the gang. Fred seemed all right, but Daphne was more salty than usual. She'd gotten eight stitches on her leg after Scrappy's attack and hated to rely on crutches. Though, Crystal was adamant she didn't strain the bite wound. But that wasn't the only thing bothering her. For once, Velma didn't think she was to blame for this new attitude.

Shaggy wasn't entirely responsive for reasons… and Scooby, well…

After lunch, Velma peered into Scooby and Shaggy's shared room. Lester's house was practically a one-story mansion with enough rooms for two "Scooby Doo Crews" as Fred sometimes still called them. But Shaggy hardly emerged from this one.

She found him at Scooby's bedside holding his paw. Shaggy seemed to be sleeping with the side of his face pressed against the mattress.

Scooby had been stitched up, bandaged and hitched to an IV still unconscious. His breathing was labored and Crystal feared he might not recover. Lying on his side, head away from the door, he looked rugged with clumps of hair matted together or shaved off.

"He has lost much blood," Crystal had explained. She wouldn't elaborate on his condition.

But seeing Scooby for herself, the alien woman didn't need to.

"Shaggy?" said Velma, coming up beside him.

He didn't move.

"I brought you some tortillas," she said. Unable to tell of he was sleeping or not, she just set the plate on a bedside table. "I'll leave them here for you in case you and Scooby get hungry. If you need anything, let me know."

It wasn't until she started to go that he stirred. She heard his throat clear.

Turning around, he looked terrible. With his eyes red and hair a mess, his face seemed entirely drained. "Velma," he started. A long pause settled in before he continued. Then, "Did you do this?" His voice came out wheezy and small.

"What are you asking me?"

He sat up. "The Nanite plague. Did you create it?"

Mushing her lips together she looked down at her feet. "Why? Are you looking for someone to blame?" she asked, gesturing to Scooby.

He got up and stroked Scooby's head. Then he sighed. "Like, I don't know. I've just been thinkin'."

"About what?" she asked, feeling a bit defensive. Though, she probably shouldn't.

"Regardless of your hand in the Nanite-disaster or whatever it's called, I really kinda think you're hiding something," he said.

Her gut twisted with anxiety. "Excuse me?"

Still groggy he went on. "And like I think that if we're going to be a team, we're gonna have to let those secrets go. Trust each other. Y'know?"

"This is what you've been contemplating while nodding off at Scooby's bedside?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

She crossed her arms and looked away. "We trust each other."

"Honestly?"

"We trust each other enough to survive, at least," she corrected. "And what makes you think I'm hiding something?"

"Well like, no reason in particular," he said with a shrug. "Just a feeling."

She couldn't tell if he was lying or not. "Are you hiding something that you want the gang to know?"

"Like I'm kinda an open book. But not everybody's all that swell at reading. And like, I don't know, what if Scoob doesn't… if he…" he stopped and wiped his nose.

"Oh no," she said. "Shaggy don't do this to yourself." She crossed the room. "Don't start saying stuff like that. Scooby is going to make it. He's strong and loyal. And he has you to fight for."

"He's all I got, Velms…"

"No, he's not," she said.

"…I've never had anyone to count on 'til Scoob showed up. Do you know what that's like? Bein' alone your whole life? All the sudden you find someone you can like really _really_ trust… and then the world just wants to rip it away from you!" His tears slipped into his beard.

She had to stand on tiptoes to wipe his cheek. Then taking his hands, she guided him onto the sofa in the room. It leaned against a window, its curtains drawn against the sunlight. Then she sat beside him.

"The world hasn't taken him yet, Shaggy," she said. "And yes, I do know what it's like to be alone my whole life."

He sniffled and watched her.

"Everyone thought I was a freak growing up. Especially my older brothers. They never thought I'd amount to anything but a sickly child with delusions of grandeur. And in my fight to prove them wrong, I became…" she stopped, dropped her head. "I became a monster."

His head shook. "You're not a monster, Velma."

 _If you only knew…_

But then for a whole second, she actually considered telling him. She could tell him the whole truth of her involvement in Project Elysium. Then the weight could fall from her shoulders and she… and he… well actually then what?

He'd hate her, she surmised.

She'd prove Daphne right and she'd hate her more than she already did.

Fred wouldn't trust her anymore.

Then this sad band of misfits would disintegrate.

And she'd be alone again.

 _…_ _But aren't I already alone? It's not a risk if I have nothing to lose…_

"Shaggy," she said and swallowed. "I have to uh… I think I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

Suddenly the door opened and Crystal walked in.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt. But I have come to check on Scooby Doo," she said. "Has he wakened yet?"

"Not yet," said Shaggy. He cleared his throat. "Will he be ok? Can you help him?" He got up off the couch.

She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I have done what I can for now. I will give him more medicine for the pain. But you must be patient and allow him to rest."

He wrung his hands. "Well like what should I do?"

"You too must rest. And eat."

"But I can't! Not while my buddy's life's in jeopardy!"

 _That's a new one_.

Crystal looked him in the eye, "You _must_." Then, her irises glowed bright and white.

Shaggy's eyes glowed back and zombie-like he said, " _I must_." He took the plate of tortillas and sat down on the couch.

Velma looked at her incredulously. "What did you just do?"

"It was for his own good," she said. As Crystal began to leave, Velma grabbed her arm.

"Don't you dare. I know what you are. Now reverse what you've done!"

She seemed very calm. "It will wear off momentarily. Not so with your plague however, Dr. Dinkley."

Velma stepped back.

"You might know my secret, but I know what you are, Doctor," said Crystal, her tone threatening.

Velma glanced over her shoulder at Shaggy who was still mesmerized. "Why haven't you exposed me?"

"For the same reasons you have not exposed me. Our secrets are our only friends. And we crave their companionship." Then she turned away. "Look after him. He will be coming out of it soon."

Stunned, Velma didn't know what to do. After Crystal left, she found herself staring at the door intently.

"Like, wow! These are really good!" said Shaggy all of the sudden. Having broken out of his trance, he finally dug into the food.

Then she remembered Crystal's directions to look after him… not that she needed them.

"Yeah," she replied. "They are good." Still nervous, she rejoined him on the couch. Her hands folded tightly on her lap.

"I'll save some for Scoob, though," he said. "He loves Mexican."

 _Or Martian_ , she thought.

Nevertheless, she settled against the couch while he ate. Seeing the old Shaggy was a relief. Somehow, it made her feel sort of relaxed. Made her feel safe.

He didn't eat all of it, though. Exhausted, Shaggy set the plate aside and leaned back. He exhaled. Worry still drained the color from his skin, but the humorous light glinted in his eyes again. If only for a second.

"What a world," he said, letting his head fall against the backboard.

Eyelids feeling suddenly heavy, she let them close. "A world of strangers and strangeness."

She heard him snigger. "You sound high."

"Wish I was."

"Crystal says I need to rest. I think you need it more than me."

She grinned. "Maybe." She didn't remember falling asleep. Only waking up. And that was the strange part.

!

"Daph, are you ok?" Fred asked while Lester took a snooze on his rocker.

She sat on cushioned bench that overlooked the desert. The midday sun burned across the red rocks. From beneath the balcony's shade she could actually enjoy it.

…If only not for the pestering blond guy behind her and the stinging wound in her leg.

"I was fine until you showed up," Daphne replied.

"Oh sorry… wait, what?"

She moaned. "Do you want something, Freddy?"

"I was just checking to see if you were all right. That's all. Are you?"

Her green eyes pierced the crimson view like it had turned to rot. Looking away, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm fine," she said.

"You're not fine, Daph."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I want to know why."

"I think it's pretty obvious."  
"Well, maybe it's not as obvious to me."

"You really are thick."

"C'mon, don't be like this."

"Like what? I'm entitled to my own feelings. And if I don't want to be 'fine,' then I damn well won't."

He sighed. "Fine then. Whatever."

She turned her head. "Do you really not know?"

"I don't!"

"It's… it's the apocalypse."

"Really?"

She made a sour face. "Fine. It's Velma.'

"Maybe on a normal day but this isn't a normal day… whatever 'normal' is anymore."

"I'm worried about Scooby Doo."

"Maybe a little but not entirely."

"My leg really hurts."

"That just makes you cranky. I don't think that's the root of the issue."

"Well if you know what's wrong why don't you just say it."

"But that's just the problem! I don't know – oh wait. Is this about…?"

"Yup."

"Daph, I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Fred."

"Well what does?"

"How about some honesty?"

He shut the screen door behind them and walked across the balcony. "What do you mean, Daph?"

She leaned toward him. "You said you were over me. That was the only reason I allowed you to continue as my camera-guy. The puppy-love shit would end. Now all the sudden you spring a kiss on me?"

"To be fair, you were kissing me first!"

"It was CPR!"

"Well it certainly didn't feel like it."

"So what if I'm out of practice. I was just trying to save your life, not come on to you in the middle of a life-or-death situation."

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

"I was pinching your nose! We were in the most unromantic place in the whole world! Honestly, you are just impossible."

"You know what, fine. If you're entitled to your feelings, then I'm entitled to mine. I'm still in love with you, Daphne Blake. Always have, always will be. And if you can't handle it then that's your problem." He stomped toward the door.

"Freddy!"

"Leave me alone." He slammed the door shut behind him.

Furious, Daphne glared across the horizon. "Idiot," she grumbled while her eyes grew hot and teary. Gripping her arms, she swallowed back the raging confusion that swarmed inside her chest. Amidst the storm within, all she knew was that she didn't want to get hurt again. But she doubted she'd be able to help it.

!

 _A year ago at the complex_

Velma charged down the hall half blind.

"I'll show them!" she vowed, the veins pulsing in her forehead. Then she turned a corner too quickly and slammed into a guy with a tray of coffee. Her clipboard flew out of her hands scattering pages while the hot beverages splattered over the floor and drenched their shoes.

"Watch it!" said Creepy Mal. "Now look what you – oh, it's you Dr. Dinkley," he said with flirtatious fluttering of his eyebrows. "If you wanted to get wet you should've told me."

"OUT OF MY WAY!" She grabbed her board and then she stormed passed him without looking back.

He huffed. "Well that was rude." Looking down at his coffee-stained shirt, he noticed a few free-fallen pages. "Ooh, Dr. Velma's secrets! I wonder what she's written about me."

Picking up the first page, he scanned through sketches, diagrams, underlined terms and her nearly indecipherable notes.

"What the hell…?" He picked through yet another page. "'The biological and psychological effects of Nanite technology'?" he read aloud. "Oh Velma you crazy girl. I can just imagine what you have whirling around in that naughty head of yours." Looking over his shoulder, he snatched up the rest of the pages and snuck off to a remote corner. But after reading through several more, he became less impressed.

"Trying to _save_ mankind? Velma, Velma, Velma, who are you kidding? Mad, beautiful scientists don't save the world." Then an idea struck. "They bend it to their will." He remembered her superiors' conference room was just down the hall. Since he intended to bring them coffee anyway, he figured he'd show them something a little more interesting. "I'm sure they'd have an idea or two on what to do with Velma's life-saving Nanites. She'll be so grateful for my help. Then she'll finally go out with me!"

Without further ado, he made his way down to the door of reclusive scientists.

"This will be brilliant," he told himself.

!

 _Present Day New Mexico_

The helicopter's engine wouldn't even start. Scrappy stared up from the dust while two portly creatures tried to operate it.

"Dear me, I don't understand! That sleeping-gas trick should have worked. How is it that a spacecraft flies out of nowhere and sucks them off the ground?"

"Bleh, no clue!"

"I say old chap, do refrain from touching the controls!" He smacked off his hands.

The other creature just growled and grumbled utter nonsense.

"Stop! Stop that talking you're getting spit all over the – oh splendid. Look what you've done. What are we supposed to tell Master Dracula now?" asked one.

"Bleh… sawry?" said the other.

Wincing, Scrappy struggled onto his feet. Getting a better look, he saw the two creatures fighting over the controls with stubby hands. They were like small hunchbacks; one with a monocle and mustache, the other with crooked teeth and a bald head. Their eyes were unnaturally large and their legs were too short. Smirking, he knew he could overtake them easily.

But as he tried to straighten his back, his body seized up with pain. He crumpled back down with a thump.

"What was that?" asked the mustached creature.

"Eh… I dunno," said the bald one.

"Well I dare say get out and check, old chum!"

He did as told and jumped onto the dusty road. "Eh… hello?" He seemed too stupid to be nervous should there be any danger.

Scrappy stared at him hoping to remain unnoticed. Slumped beneath a car and feeling the sharp, stinging pain of glass crushed into his back, it took more willpower than he'd admit not to whimper.

 _If that moron Scooby is dead_ , _that idiot dog trainer is next_. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Uh I don't see nothin', Brunch!"

"Well then, I say, get back in here, Crunch."

"Oh wait! Wait!"

"What?"

"I see a doggy!"

"You said what now, old chap?"

"A doggy! A doggy! I see a doggy!"

Brunch poked out his head. "I dare say you're right! That is a dog!" Then he smacked Crunch's head. "And what the hell does Master Dracula want with a dog? Nothing! He wants a _werewolf_."

"Well… doggy is half werewolf."

Brunch sighed. "You really are an idiot, aren't you? The serum only works on _humans_. You can't turn a dog into a werewolf with a chemical compound intended to mutate human DNA, can you?"

"Eh…?" he drooled.

"Right."

Suddenly, the chopper's radio went off.

"Hunch Bunch! Are you there?"

They froze.

"Masta!" said Crunch.

"It is indeed."

"Did you catch me a verevolf?" Master Dracula asked in a thick accent.

"Oh dear… what should we tell him?"

"We uh, I dunno!"

"You never do." Then Brunch picked up the microphone. "Master! So good to hear your voice. How is the lovely Vanna – ?"

"Verevolf. Did you catch it?"

"Oh, the werewolf! Why uh… of course we did!"

"Zen bring it here now."

"Oh well you see we are," he cleared his throat, "Having some difficulties with the er… the…"

"Chopper down, Masta!" said Crunch.

"Yes, I'm afraid the chopper is a bit out of sorts. Repairs may take a while. A few days even."

"Years!"

"Yes years… no! Not years, Crunch you idiot."

Dracula sighed over the radio. "Fine. Vatever you have to do, do it. Zen get back here you morons or I'll send za Creeper!"

The two of them shivered.

"Oh, dear me no!" said Brunch.

"Not da Creepa!"

"Yes za Creeper! Now hurry up you fools!" Then he was out.

The Hunch Bunch exchanged looks. Crunch gulped.

After hearing every word, Scrappy formulated an idea. He coughed loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh, doggy!" said Crunch.

"You two," Scrappy called.

"My goodness, it speaks!" said Brunch. He stepped out of the chopper.

"I could use a little help," he said.

"Is that so, dog?" asked Brunch. A knife gleamed in his hands. "Well we have our own problems, you see. And we are not in the business of helping others."

Scrappy tsked. "Shame. 'Cause I'm in the mood to do you a favor. For a small price but, a favor's a favor, isn't it?"

Brunch's bulbous eyes narrowed. "And what favor would that be?"

"For one thing," he said, then coughed. "I could take a look at your engine, give a diagnosis."

"Dee-ag-noose-ess?" said Crunch.

"Hush you," said Brunch. "That's a very small favor, dog."

Averting his focus from the knife he added, "And, I could find you your humans."

The Hunch Bunch stared.

"Can you now?"

"In fact, I know where they are right this second."

Brunch crossed his arms. "And what would you like in return?"

Scrappy grunted as he pushed himself onto his feet. Even though it stung between his shoulders, he fought through the pain. "Well, someone to fix my back for one. As for the other thing, let's just say I want a guy and his dog dead."

"You want us to play assassin?"

Scrappy growled. "No. I will do the killing. You're just my transportation. And you can do what you want with the other humans."

The Hunch Bunch grinned slow, sly grins.

"Hehe… killer doggy," said Crunch.

Brunch sheathed his knife. "All right, old chap. It's a deal." Then he adjusted his monocle. "Now first tell us, where are these humans you speak of?"

!

 **Thank you readers for following up to this point! I will be taking a two-week hiatus before posting the next chapter. Happy Reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Velma leaned against his bedroom door in mystified silence. Her crimson cheeks felt hot. Readjusting her glasses, she tried to act cool. But then Daphne limped by.

"Daph!"

Daphne jumped. "Velma? What is the matter with you? What are you doing up this late?" She shoved back the red hair that'd fallen into her face.

"W-why? What time is it?" Velma asked.

"It's almost three in the morning." Then her focus shifted to the door behind her. "Were you in Scooby and Shaggy's room?"

"What, no! I mean yes."

Her brows scrunched together. "How's Scooby doing? Is he ok?"

"Well," she pushed up her glasses and cleared her throat. "His condition appears to be stable," she said.

"That's hopeful sounding… I suppose."

"Yup," said Velma. She remained there tense and awkward wanting to escape to her own borrowed room.

"Is Shaggy in there?"

"Why? Nothing happened!" Velma defended without knowing why.

"…Ok?"

"Uh, he's asleep, I mean. I didn't wake him or anything."

Daphne blinked. "Whatever. Since you're up, I might as well show you something." She turned back down the hall. Her crutches were nowhere to be seen even though she limped like a peg-legged pirate.

Reluctantly, Velma followed.

Daphne brought her to a fashionable sitting room; complete with glass scorpion figurines and a geometrically confusing chandelier.

"Here," said Daphne, bringing her attention to something sitting on the coffee table… a table that was a massive tree stump. Efficiently sanded and polished but a stump.

Seeing the object, Velma's eyes lit up.

"Crystal had stored away as many valuable items as she could after the _Changing_. And once again she's come to our rescue by gifting us with this," explained Daphne.

Velma sat down to a bright orange ultraportable QuickMouse- _Primo_ laptop. For all the money invested into the complex, not even the Four could afford one of these. She'd never seen one in person. Almost frightened, her fingers traced its sleek, bulletproof surface.

"Is this for me?" she asked.

"No, it's for Dracula," Daphne said, crossing her arms. "Of course it's for you. Can you work with it?"

"Most definitely," she said, lifting its weightless lid and running her fingers along the dark, obsidian keys. Then, "Is Crystal positive she wants me to have this? It's the most enduring, reliable, beautiful piece of equipment that's ever… why are you looking at me like that?"

Daphne's face was a cross of boredom and disgust. "It's just a laptop."

Velma snorted. "Yeah. Ok. And a Lamborghini Veneno is _just_ a car."

Her brows popped up critically. "Careful, your geek is showing."

Rolling her eyes, Velma powered up the QuickMouse and watched its screen glow.

"So can you continue your research or can't you?" Daphne asked.

"Give me a few hours. I'll find everything you need to know."

"Good," then she stretched out her arms and rolled back her head. "I'm going back to bed."

"Nighty night," said Velma absently, already absorbed in the computer's many powerful features. She didn't notice Daphne linger at first. So focused, a steady stream of excitement coursed like lightning through her fingertips.

"Velma?" said Daphne.

"Yeah?"

"I uh… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Velma stopped tapping at the keyboard. Somehow, even the incredible QuickMouse faded away as she lifted her gaze. For a second, she doubted that she'd heard it at all.

"Come again?"

Daphne rubbed an eye, and then grabbed her waist. Struggling to look Velma in the face, she seemed more than uncomfortable.

"I really screwed up back there in Midsomer," Daphne continued. "I put us all in danger. And now Scooby…" she looked back down the hall and bit her thumbnail. "Well, it wasn't my finest moment. I _meant_ well but… they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions for a reason, right?"

Staring blankly, Velma was still processing the preceding statement of "I'm sorry."

"Right," Daphne said.

After a moment, Velma looked down. "You don't have to apologize to me."

"Yes I do."

"No." Velma shut the laptop lid. "Daphne, _I_ am sorry. But I'm going to make it right." She got up, taking the computer with her. "I promise."

Daphne tilted her head in confusion. "Is that a confession?"

She thought about her precious secret and the morbidly comfortable way it weighed down her heart. Then she knew she couldn't share it. Not yet.

"I may not be the mastermind behind the apocalypse," said Velma, "But to an extent, I know my part in it. And I owe it to you and everyone on this planet to undo what's been done. Your heart is noble and true, Daphne Blake. Mine is a weak, ticking machine that has served no other purpose but to pump sickly plasma through my veins. So keep your chin up; you haven't doomed yourself just yet."

Then she left before Daphne had a chance to respond and locked herself in her room. Head spinning from the strangeness of the day she realized it wasn't even four in the morning. Daphne's apology came as a shock. But as she climbed into bed and reopened the QuickMouse, all she could think about was the warm pressure against here ear when she woke to the sound of Shaggy's heartbeat.

!

 _You can_ not _do this_ , she'd thought to herself.

Velma had woken up in what seemed to be the middle of the night. Lester's house was quiet and asleep. Moonlight snuck through the blinds and striped white lines against the carpet.

Feeling contently numb, she stared at the moon lines while nestled against her strange pillow. It wasn't very soft, but it was warm. Deep inside, she heard a soothing drumbeat that nearly lulled her back to sleep.

But then the "pillow" moved.

Woken, she lifted her head.

The last thing she remembered was sitting next to Shaggy as he ate a tortilla. Now she found herself tangled around him on the sofa with her head on his chest and his bandaged hand curled around her lower back. He breathed quietly in slow, even breaths with his head against the cushioned armrest. She didn't want to be found liked this, not by anyone. Especially not Shaggy. She had to get up.

Only… part of her wanted to stay.

 _No, Velma_ , she thought. But even as reason protested, she lowered her head again, nestling against his hard chest. She'd never felt anything like it, the feeling of a warm body against hers. She didn't know it could be so thrilling… or safe. She didn't know it could make her feel so much less alone.

 _Shaggy…_

But then a whimper came from the bed across the room. Scooby was dreaming. His poor, injured body muttered in his sleep with sad little cries.

Her brow crinkled as she picked herself up. Careful to set his injured hand down gently, she crawled over him onto the floor. Then she checked on Scooby's vitals.

Dreaming violently, Scooby's eyelids flickered while his paws trembled.

"Shh," she said, brushing his head. "It's ok."

He calmed at her touch. His long snout snuggled into his pillow as his dreaming stopped.

"I'm so sorry, Scooby Doo," she said in a low whisper. "You and I both know it wasn't supposed to turn out this way. But it did. And we're all paying for it," She stroked his soft back where there weren't bloody stitches or stained bandages. "Sleep well," she added, kissing him on the nose.

As she headed for the door she rubbed her arms. She noticed her shirt smelled like Shaggy and that she sort of liked it. Glancing back, she watched him turn onto his side with an unconscious grunt.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

His lips smacked together and then he said something strange. "Like, lay off my girlfriend, Mal." Then he rolled onto his other side.

 _Mal?_ She wondered. _Creepy Mal?_

She snuck out of his room hoping no one would notice and make any unseemly conclusions. Shutting the door behind her, she was almost in the clear. And then Daphne walked by.

!

Groggy from a restless night, Fred walked toward the kitchen when he heard Lester on the phone early that morning. Not wanting to intrude, he started to turn away until he caught a few words.

"You got it? It works?" Lester said. He paused for some time listening to the person on the other end. "Yeah, yeah… they're here. They're all right. Ok. Yup. Uh… lotsa luck ta you too. Ok. Tell the big guy I said hey." Then he hung up with a heavy sigh. "Weird kid."

After a few seconds, Fred finally deemed it safe enough to enter.

"Well good mornin' there! I sure ain't used to seein' nobody else but my Crissy. Ready for a nice crispy slab of bacon?" Lester greeted standing over the delicious smelling stove.

"I wouldn't dare pass that up!" said Fred.

"Good!" Then Lester slid a clump of greasy, fried scorpions onto a plate and set it before him on the table.

Fred's eye twitched. "Uh…?"

"That there's some good ol' New Mexican bacon! Caught 'em fresh this mornin'. Eat up!"

Fred stared down at their little bent legs and stingers curling over like dried up twigs. The moment Daphne hobbled in he was relieved. And then he remembered their fight on the balcony. Immediately those excited feelings crumbled into ash.

"Hey, Lester," Daphne greeted, leaning her crutches against a kitchen chair.

"Mornin'! Bacon?"

She held up a hand. "I'll pass. Thanks though." Instead, she limped straight for the coffee maker and poured herself a steaming cup.

"Looks like another blazin' day in the oven this mornin'! Hope y'all don't need to go outside for nothin'."

"Not yet," said Fred. "We're grateful for your help but we uh… certainly wouldn't want to _take advantage_ of your _unrequited attention_." Then he glanced back at Daphne. If she'd heard him, she didn't show it.

"That's right thoughtful of you," said Lester. "But you fellers can stay as long as you want to!"

"It's a kind notion," said Daphne, "But we have a million _more important things to do_ before we settle down."

"Really?" Said Lester interestedly. He leaned against the counter. "What've you crazy kids been up to?"

"Us?" said Fred. "Oh, just selflessly throwing ourselves into danger for people that don't really care about us."

"Interestin'…" said Lester.

Daphne breathed out. "What he means by that is we're trying to help some people _who didn't ask for help_ in the first place without some _secret, hidden agenda_."

Lester looked between them. "Uh-huh…" he said. "So, what exactly are you kids doing?"

Then Velma walked into the kitchen with Shaggy in tow, her eyes crazed and wide. "Saving the world," she said.

!

"It worked!" said Velma, who'd been up all night. "I ran it this morning and my algorithm finally finished running. We have a location. Well, we have two."

"The Four's secret bunker?" said Daphne.

"The remote location from which they activated the Nanites, yes," she said.

They were gathered privately around the kitchen table, just the four of them. Scooby was still unconscious and it took significant bargaining to persuade Shaggy to leave him. The sunny windows did his new ghostly complexion some good, though.

"If we got it, then let's go!" Fred almost shouted.

"Not so fast there Jones," said Velma. "If one location is sending off a signal, that means the other is a decoy. And the decoy will be booby-trapped with cameras, sensors and some serious threats. If we trigger any of them, the Four will know someone is on to them and relocate," said Velma.

"Really? Like, what are they so afraid of?" asked Shaggy.

"They're cowards. What aren't they afraid of?" said Daphne, crossing her arms.

"So how do we know which one is the decoy?" asked Fred.

Velma looked at them worriedly. "Luck?"

"You mean the non-existent superstition you doubt so much?" Daphne asked.

"Precisely."

Shaggy plopped down in a chair. "We're screwed."

Fred pondered this, rubbing his chin.

"What do you guys propose we do?" Daphne asked. "I mean, are you sure you can't figure out which is which?"

Velma shook her head. "Afraid not."

"Flip a coin," said Fred.

"Huh?"

"Fred, this is serious," said Daphne, green eyes narrowed.

"I _am_ serious! If we can't find out what's what then we'll leave it up to fate."

"But like, I think Fate has a serious vendetta against us, man," said Shaggy.

Daphne raised a hand, "I second that."

"Then is this the end? Do we call it quits here and now?" Fred asked.

"Like, of course not, Freddy," Shaggy said.

"Well is there any way at all to narrow down the search? Any hunches, Velma?" Fred asked.

She shook her head. "Neither of them make sense. One is in a Louisiana swamp. The other is in some small town in Massachusetts. Oakhaven or something. They're thousands of miles apart. And worse, they're thousands of miles from _us_."

"Maybe one of Lester's alien friends can give us a ride," Shaggy suggested.

For a second, Velma entertained the idea.

"But a coin toss, Freddy?" Daphne asked.

"You wanna take a vote?" challenged Fred.

Shaggy winced. "Like, let's not."

A bit vexed, Velma sighed. Then, "Does anyone have a quarter?" she asked.

The gang went quiet hoping she wasn't serious. But Fred quickly pulled a coin out of his pocket and dropped it into her palm.

"Heads it's Oakhaven, tails it's the swamp?" she said, looking for their approval.

Shaggy rubbed his arms while Daphne pursed her lips. Fred merely offered a hopeless smile.

"Ok then." Velma flicked the quarter high into the air and caught it. She slapped one side atop her forearm. With her palm still folded over it, she breathed out.

"On three," she said.

"One," said Daphne.

"Two," said Fred.

Shaggy finished it. "Three."

!

Scooby Doo opened his eyes. He sensed someone in the room and lethargically picked up his head.

"Raggy?" he called, wondering where he'd gone.

In his place, a golden retriever sat beside him. It was odd because she didn't really smell like a dog.

"Who are ru?" he asked. "Rhere am I?"

Her eyes were calm and black but far from earthly. "Peace, Scooby Doo. My name is Amber. And you are in a safe place."

Somehow, her calming tone didn't quite do the trick. He tried to get up. "Where's Raggy?"

"Shh! He is safe. He is near."

Scooby sniffed the air. "Where's Rappy?"

Her floppy ears perked up. "Come again?"

"Rappy! Rappy rhe… rever mind." Then he made another alarming observation. "You're ralking."

"So are you."

"Reah, I'm a Smart Rog."

"That is to be determined."

"Rut how are you _ralking_?"

"That is neither here nor there." She seemed patient. Caring even. But more than anything she was focused. "I was asked to watch over you. It seems your travelling companions are holding a secret meeting. Tell me, Scooby Doo. In a fallen, monstrous world, what are you and your friends looking for?"

He shifted, looking down at the IV poking into his front leg and the heart-monitor beeping steadily above him. Scenes of Scrappy's attack came in whispers. Though, the only substantial reminder of it was the pain. He wanted to fall back into a drug-induced sleep. But more than that, he was curious about Amber's intentions.

"Answers," he said.

She watched him with her patient black eyes. "Answers to what?"

"Rhe Ranite transformations."

"So you are going after the perpetrators of the _Changing_?"

"Uh… maybe?"

"What are you going to do once you find them? Kill them?"

He seemed puzzled. "I ron't know."

"Do yourself a favor, Scooby Doo. Stay away from them."

"Rhy?"

"It is too late to save the world now. Confronting the masterminds will only make things worse."

"Maybe. Maybe rot. Re have to try."

"But why?"

Scooby lowered his voice. "Relma," he said, "She is one of the Rive."

Her eyes narrowed, "I do not understand."

"She can rolve this rystery. Rut not alone."

They heard someone at the door, cutting off their conversation. But as soon as they left Amber continued.

"Are you really planning to go through with this?" she asked.

He nodded rather nervously.

Then she slipped out of her collar and dropped it by his nose. On the back of her dog tag was a device like a tiny sundial. Picking it up with her mouth, she clipped it onto the back of his tag with a magnetic click.

"This is a homing device. Twist it three times to the left and it will signal Crystal and me to come to your aid."

He looked at her concerned. "Rhy are ru relping me?"

"What you are attempting is impossible, but also brave. By failing to prevent a disaster we predicted to occur, we are by default enablers. This is our way of making amends to your planet."

"You predicted rhe apocalypse?"

She glanced away guiltily. "Crystal predicted something like this would happen. She has been studying scientists like your Dr. Dinkley for some time. And instead of intervening, we hid. So please accept our help now. And ask for it again, but only when you sincerely need it."

Then she jumped off the bed in a graceful bound.

"Wait," said Scooby.

She looked back.

" _My_ planet? Rhere are _you_ from?"

She offered a kind smile. "A very distant planet in a nearby galaxy." Then she left.

He watched her go then sunk his head down on the pillow. Still tired and aching, he thought of the strange device dangling from his neck. And as he drifted back to sleep, he wondered how he'd manage to twist it without fingers.

!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Wow, I've never been to Oakhaven before," said Shaggy the next day. "My grandma said it was a great little town during Thanksgiving. Lot's of fun and games for the little kiddies to play. They even had a reenactment of the pilgrim village that started it all."

"That sounds real nice, Shagster. But we're not exactly going for the holiday festivities," said Fred in a bummed-out tone. "We've got a top-secret bunker to break in to, remember?"

Lester had provided some supplies for their trip and the two guys loaded up a duffel bag with gear: batteries, medicine, all the basics.

"Fred, you ok?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine."

Shaggy pondered him a second longer. "Are you sure?"

"Can we just pack, please?" he snapped.

"Dude, what's your deal?"

"I don't have a deal."

Shaggy stopped packing. "Fred."

Fred wanted to ignore him, but eventually looked up. And by that point he couldn't keep it in. "It's Daphne," he confessed in annoyance. "We're in some kind of fight I think."

"Aren't you two like a couple or something?"

"That's just it," he said, dropping his fists on the table. "I really want us to be. I keep hoping that we will be. But I think I have to start facing the facts that it's never gonna happen."

"Never, man?"

"Never ever."

"Dude, that's harsh."

He dropped his head. "I know."

Shaggy rubbed the back of his neck and winced. "Can I like ask why?"

"Sure but I don't think I could give you an explanation. She's just so adamant that we don't date. She keeps saying that she doesn't want to be distracted from her work. But I know it's more than that. Unfortunately, I don't know what 'more' is."

"Huh," said Shaggy. "Like, I get she's really guarded, but I thought she'd at least lower her walls to you."

Fred shook his head. "She's locked up tight."

"Was she hurt by someone?"

"I doubt it…" then he trailed off. His jaw dropped. "Hold the phone," he said looking at Shaggy with an epiphany shining in his eyes. "Right after we met, she was into this older guy. A real charmer. I thought he was a scumbag from the beginning. But then this one day in our junior year of college he just disappeared. She never even mentioned him. I completely forgot about that 'til now." He clapped his hands together. "That must be the reason. Maybe there is hope!"

Shaggy shook his head, torn between pity and amusement. "You got it bad."

"Yeah, I know."

Laughing, Shaggy continued packing. "I'm so grateful my ex didn't get dragged into this trip with us. That would like suck."

"Well, Daph's not really my ex, so to speak."

"You've been carrying feelings for her that have never been returned though."

"Well, yeah."

Shaggy shrugged good-naturedly. "It's a bit similar I think. There's that _tension_. Y'know?"

Fred watched him with suspicion. "You're not experiencing any tension with anyone right now, are you?"

"You mean like… the Mad Scientist?"

He laughed. "Perhaps."

Shaggy's grin faded. "Well like, She's still so wrapped up in her own head. I doubt she can see me at all. But then she's always been that way. Don't know why an apocalypse would change any of that."

Fred tried at an optimistic smile. "There might be hope there too, Shagster."

He just shook his head doubtfully. "Sure. Maybe."

!

Velma and Daphne plotted out their route on the QuickMouse when Crystal walked by.

"Is everything going well?" she asked. "How does the computer suit you?"

"It's amazing," said Velma. "I never got to thank you, so… thanks."

"It is my pleasure. Daphne, how is your leg healing?"

Daphne hesitated, her mind roiling. "It's swell."

"Excellent. Let me know if you need anything else." Then she sauntered off. Nearly oblivious, Velma jumped back into picking an alternate route for emergency purposes.

"If we take highway seventy through Missouri we'll add a few hours but the difference won't be astronomical. What do you say, Daph?"

Daphne didn't respond.

"Daph? Are you listening to me?"

"Do you think there's something strange about Crystal?" she asked in a low voice.

Velma didn't know how to answer her right that moment. She couldn't very well give away someone else's secret.

"Well, I don't suspect English is her first language but that's not really strange… is it?"

"No it's not. And that's not what I mean."

Velma hardly knew why the volatile journalist was even speaking to her. It made her horribly suspicious. But she figured she should at least try to maintain peace for the time being. Though, she doubted it would last.

"Why? What have you noticed?" Velma probed.

She rubbed her chin. "Nothing concrete. But something about her rescue mission doesn't add up. I mean, _four_ injured people and a dog fitting into her Jeep? And how did she deal with those goons with the sleeping gas?"

 _Now she questions this?_

"You think we should ask her about it?"

"Not sure if it's worth it yet. She has been awfully helpful. But that might be a good idea."

"Right."

"Hey, did you do something different with your hair?"

"What?"

"It looks nice."

Crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, Velma finally had to ask, "Why are you being so cordial with me?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Daphne asked innocently.

"You know exactly what I mean. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Can't I be a little less than hostile once in a while?"

Velma hated to stir up another tirade from Daphne, but she had to get the truth. "I've never thought you capable to be honest."

Daphne huffed in irritation. "Am I really always awful to you?"

"Yes."

Daphne made an uncomfortable face. "Oh. Well, I guess I didn't notice."

"You didn't?"

"Ok, so I've been a complete bitch to you for weeks. An apocalypse is a lot to take in."

Velma sniggered. "So what's going on that you're buddying up to me?"

"Buddying up, is that really the right phrase?"

Velma merely shrugged.

Relenting, Daphne sat down and folded her hands. "Don't you think that we could perhaps be friends? Ever?"

"Why? You've made it pretty clear what you think of me."

"All right, so I might've been a little harsh. And sure I pegged you as the evil genius behind humanity's destruction… which would be a significant detriment in anyone's friendship… but perhaps it could work out."

"But why?"

Daphne's head sunk. "Me and Fred are fighting. I need a friend right now."

"So what about Shaggy?"

"He's Fred's friend."

"So?"

" _So_ … it would force him to choose sides."

"Well, I'm certainly sorry to hear that."

"But… you won't be my friend? Is that fair?"

"Look, Daphne. I've never been one to have friends and you're not about to be my first. And honestly, I'm still too focused trying to figure out where everything went wrong concerning 'humanity's destruction' forget socializing. Just for the record, I never intended to hurt anyone, whatever my level of responsibility is for this apocalypse, not that I have or ever could convince you. And you know what, I'm sick of trying."

Daphne tried to interject but was cut off.

"And about this whole 'friendship' thing you're after, what happens when the whole story comes into view and it turns out I really am all those awful things you said? What happens to your apologies? I'm sorry Ms. Blake, but I don't trust you. So. Is highway seventy an option or not?"

Her mouth hung open in protest but nothing came of it. Distantly, she sat back, dropping her hands on her lap. "Yeah, that highway is fine."

!

"So, Crystal gave Scooby the 'all clear' as long as he takes it slow," said Shaggy that evening. He seemed more energetic than usual. And he smelled nice.

"That's great," Velma said.

He'd found her by the balcony door staring through the glass. The day had fallen to a close and they planned to depart early the next morning. They'd each get in one last night of comfy beds before returning to the chaos. Velma didn't want to go back. But she had promises to keep.

"Yeah, I think he's about ready for round two with Scrappy Doo."

She snickered but didn't know what to say. Hugging herself, she looked between him and the window thinking about their night on the couch. Self-conscious, she wondered if he'd been aware of it at all.

"You ready for the trip?" he asked, absently rubbing the back of his injured hand.

"Hardly," she uttered, but then noticed the bandages hugging his bite wound. "How's your wrist?"

"Oh, it's pretty badly bruised," he said, "But not broken. Man that little fiend's got a hell of a chomper." He looked down at his bandaged wrist with amusement.

"But she cleared that too?" she asked struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Yeah. Crystal's pretty cool! Strange, though."

"Strange? How?"

He looked around to make sure no one could hear him. Then he leaned toward her ear. The brush of his beard sent a strange rush of excitement through her.

"Call me crazy," he started, "But isn't it kinda weird for an alien to parade around as a human in the middle of a _monster_ apocalypse?" He stepped back to read her reaction.

Her mouth fell open.

"'Cause like she'd totally fit in, you know?"

"How did you know she was an alien?"

"Don't you remember? She swept us up in that UFO of hers and then tried to control my mind. But of course, my brain's so fried from television there's hardly anything to control." He laughed. "But it was a good try."

Smiling, she patted his arm. "You know, you raise a valid point. I'll be right back, ok?"

"Uh sure," he said and watched her go.

Velma found Crystal in some kind of study. Bookshelves with hefty volumes coated the walls, offering that sacred scent of aged pages. Velma breathed it in with relief and looked up into the skylight. It allowed starlight to shower onto the mahogany desk in the center.

"Daphne's onto you," Velma warned.

"It is to be expected. Curiosity is in her nature," said Crystal busily typing at a keyboard. It didn't host the same alphabet as hers. She doubted the letters were even Earthly.

"And Shaggy knows."

The alien woman smirked. "I wondered at that."

Velma brushed past the leather spines with her fingertips, nostalgic for the library of her hometown.

"It makes me wonder," Velma continued, "How safe your secret really is."

"And therefore yours?"

"Something like that, I guess."

"Do you not trust your friends?" Crystal asked.

"Do you trust your dad?"

Crystal paused her work and settled back in the desk chair. "He is obsessed with my kind. I simply do not want to be another obsession. I just…" she looked away. "I want to remain his daughter."

Velma stared blankly at the wall of books. "I don't want to be left alone."

"They seem loyal to your cause."

"Sure. But if they confirm their fears about me, then what? Right now, we're all safe in keeping it a theory."

Crystal stood up. "But you and I know the truth, do we not? And those theories are inaccurate. Are they not?"

Velma met her gaze. "It was my research that they used. I enabled this. That much is true."

"But you did not activate the Nanites."

"The Four wouldn't have had anything to activate if it wasn't for me and my pride."

Crystal walked around and leaned against her desk. "That may be. But you had no intention of changing the entire world."

"Intentions…" Velma scoffed. "In the end, what do they matter?"

She blinked, calm, emotionless. "Intentions drive every great act and every great mistake. You made a mistake…"

"A catastrophic mistake!"

"…That you must accept. It is not your fear of abandonment that keeps your secret a secret. It is only your pride."

"And what, you're going to keep you true identity from Lester while I spill my own guts?"

"That is up to me," she said fiercely. "But as someone who walks in shadow as you do, I know how lonesome that can feel. You cannot afford to be alone right now. You need each of them; Fred, Shaggy, Daphne, Scooby… and they need you."

Velma swallowed and stared down at her feet.

"Tell them the truth. All of it."

"I don't think I can do that."

Crystal offered a grim smile. "Then I fear you have already failed."

Plopping down into a cushioned chair, Velma wallowed in her own self-pity for a moment. Deep down she knew Crystal was right. She just hated it. But she could hardly stand to dwell on it.

Then, "Crystal. Why have you been helping us?"

The alien woman smirked. "You are not the only one who wants Earth restored. Now go. I have an important letter to finish crafting for my superiors."

"Your superiors?"

" _Go_ ," Crystal urged.

Shoved back into the hallway, Velma came to a conclusion. She had to tell the gang the truth. And now that she'd actually built up the nerve, this moment was the perfect time. So, sucking in a deep breath, she found the others in the living room.

"Guys…?" she started, heart fluttering.

But then Scooby stepped out into the hall, the IV dragging behind him. His long face foretold the oncoming horror before he said a word.

The gang went quiet staring at him.

"He's here," Scooby said.

Daphne and Fred exchanged worried looks.

"Scoob?" said Shaggy.

Velma glanced around the room. "Who…?"

Suddenly, the far wall exploded shooting hot debris at them. The explosion shook the ground, knocking them off their feet. When the dust cleared, a huge hole gaped into the desert night, and three sinister beings stood inside it.

One of them, short, round and bald spat out pure nonsense.

"I dare say, Old Chap," replied the other portly creature with a waxed mustache and glittering monocle, "The dog was right. There are indeed humans here."

"And you doubted me," said Scrappy with a malevolent growl.

Behind them hobbled a dozen or so mutants from the center of town. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, thick with hunger.

That's when Crystal and Lester jumped into the room armed and ready to fight. Amber joined in, barring her teeth.

"You kids, get!" said Lester, taking aim. "We'll hold 'em off."

Daphne already had her rifle locked and loaded. "We can help!" she said.

"No, just run!" said Crystal.

"Like, I'll get the bags," said Shaggy, but he paused, him and Scrappy staring each other down. Fred had to yank him away.

Once the gang ran out, Velma paused. She grabbed Crystal's arm in solidarity. "Thank you."

Crystal met her eyes for a second. "Run."

!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Velma sat up front in the Mystery Machine with Daphne and Fred. After ten hours of driving that day, they still hadn't reached their destination. With a twilight sky gleaming overhead, she watched tiredly from the passenger window as they passed a sign for New Gate, Ohio.

"This would've been so much faster if someone hadn't shattered the GPS," said Velma with a sideways glance.

"I said I was sorry," Daphne retorted.

"Actually, you didn't."

" _Well_ ," said Fred before they could start a fight, "We've made it this far."

"Yeah, but we're supposed to stop in Columbus. We're still hours away," said Velma, impatient. Even she heard the tension in her voice. Just knowing every second brought them closer to he Four made her more and more unsettled.

Scooby and Shaggy slumped together in the back seat.

"We've got hours to go, for real?" Shaggy asked. "Me and Scoob finished all the frozen corn dogs. What are we supposed to do 'til then?"

Busily smacking his lips together, Scooby perked up. "Rind _more_ corn rogs!"

Daphne and Velma looked back in pure disgust.

"You just ate seven boxes of _Barney's Corn Diggidy-Dogs_. A garbage truck could not ingest that much junk." Daphne said.

Shaggy tapped his chin. "That seems like a fair analyses."

Scooby giggled.

"Well, what do you think, gang?" Fred asked. "Should we keep going or stop for the night?"

"Keep going – " Velma started.

"– Stop for the night," said Daphne.

The guys waited in silence for another brawl to start. They'd driven for days from Midsomer without incident. But none of them believed the tense peace between the girls could actually last.

Daphne clucked her tongue. "You know what," she said.

The guys held their breath.

"Why not drive another hour or two? I mean, we've already come this far," she said.

Velma looked at her in unbelief.

"You guys ok with that? I can drive if you need me to," Daphne suggested.

Fred and Shaggy exchanged looks.

"Um, I'm good for now," Fred said.

Silence.

Then, Scooby whispered to Shaggy.

"Rhat is happening?" he asked.

"Like, beats me, Scoob," said Shaggy patting the dog's head. Still scarred and battered, Scooby had healed considerably. But the bloodstains along his stitches and the shaved patches of fur were still off putting, even for Shaggy.

Five days had passed since they escaped Midsomer. They snuck their way off Lester's plateau and back into town where they found the van. After driving out into the desert, they never heard what happened to Crystal or Scrappy or any of the others.

While the gang tried not to think about their fate, Scooby remained secretly conscious of Amber's honing device on his collar. Deep down he knew that those aliens would be just fine.

It was Scrappy he worried about.

A few miles later, the van approached an old, iron bridge. Graffiti discolored the rusty bars with messages like "RH wuz here," or "the end has come" and "she's watching." Caution tape fluttered off the side of the railing like it had been torn through. At the same time, lightning flickered in the distance, giving shape to the scraggly trees across the river.

Velma absently clutched her QuickMouse as she pulled away from the window.

The rest of the gang felt it too, going quiet, their eyes roaming for danger.

That's when bloody, ghoulish hands grabbed the side of the bridge. It started to climb up.

"Jeepers!" said Daphne.

"Fred, go!" Velma shrieked. It gathered its slimy body up in a heap, long dark hair trailing down its face.

He slammed on the gas, but the van hardly budged. "I'm trying!"

"Fred! You're in park!" Shaggy said.

"Oh," he switched gears and hit the pedal.

Just as the creature started for them, they jolted forward, each of them ramming back against their seats. They heard its inhuman screech as they rushed past. It followed after them like an echo for a whole mile.

Still wide-eyed, Fred asked, "You think we lost it?"

"Why were you in park?" Daphne said.

"Yeah, I think it's gone," Velma assessed.

"I don't know," Fred answered. "I don't even remember doing that."

As buildings and abandoned cars came into view, Velma felt the hair prickle along the back of her neck. But she kept her nervousness to herself.

They drove further along this crumbling road of ruins, framed by temperate forest. Broken signs reflected off the headlights while the small town drew nearer.

Suddenly, something heavy rammed into the side of the van.

"ZOINKS!"

Shaggy and Scooby ducked down behind their seat.

"What was that?" asked Daphne. She yanked out her Glock. Twisting around she noticed a faint dent in the side door.

Then, another flash of lightning revealed a huge object in the middle of the road.

"Jinkies!"

Fred swerved, but just as soon lost control. Grasping the wheel, he grit his teeth while the wheels screeched in resistance. Then they flew off the side of the road and crashed into a ditch. The windshield shattered across their vision and everything went still.

A moment later, all Velma noticed was the sound of deflating airbags and the horrible pain in her knee.

Groaning, she tried to collect herself.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Fred turning around in his seat, blood leaking down his chin.

"I'm ok, man," said Shaggy his hair askew.

Scooby whimpered in agreement.

Daphne readjusted herself and got a look around. She'd cut her arm on something. But none of that worried her.

"Maybe we're ok _now_ ," she said, "but look!"

Outside the cracked windshield, scaled, slimy mutants lingered among the trees. Their filmy eyes reflected the headlights like dim, floating orbs. Some started to approach the wreckage.

Shaggy gulped loudly. "Like, oh boy."

"Now everybody stay calm," said Fred, deflating the airbag with a knife from his belt. "Grab only what we need. We're gonna have to run."

"Rhat?!" said Scooby.

"Like, I second that. _What_?!"

"If we don't run now, they'll smash through and we'll be trapped. It's our only option," Daphne said, patting herself down for a weapon check. "Most of my arsenal is in the back."

Velma tucked her QuickMouse in her backpack and scrambled for her flashlight.

Frozen by fear, Shaggy and Scooby stared wide-eyed in the backseat.

"Guys can you…?" Daphne started. Then just as quickly gave up. "I'll get it myself." She climbed over the front and back seats and started for her bunk, when something pounded on the back door.

"Uh Scoob," said Shaggy. "Was that your stomach?"

Scooby stared dead ahead. "Uh… rope. Was it rours?"

Shaking his head, Shaggy gulped. "Nope."

That's when a massive claw broke through the steel door.

"RUN!" said Daphne.

They bolted out of the van and straight down the road, leaving behind everything. The monsters growled in pursuit, their feet trampling through the grass and the gravel.

Daphne fired at them. But the bullets only made them angrier.

Velma lagged behind, being the shortest, the slowest and carrying a backpack. She could feel the heat seeping off their bodies as the mutants reached for her.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself onward.

All the sudden, something slammed into the beast right at her back. She glanced behind her and found it was another mutant, just a darker shade of green. As a fresh wave of mutants rushed in, all of them darker scaled than the original she soon realized they were a competing tribe. They battled over the same prey.

She almost stopped simply to observe.

 _Fascinating…_

"Velma!" Shaggy called, running back for her with Scooby at his heels. He grabbed her hand, hauling her along.

"They're fighting over us!" she said.

"Great. Run!"

Still shaken, the gang hurried through the deserted town of New Gate with its shattered movie theater and filmy grocery store windows. With the mutants fighting far behind them, they slowed to an exhausted jog. Here, the wind pick up, cool but daunting. A summer storm was about to begin. They could hear the thunder in the distance.

Catching movement further down the road, Fred signaled them to hide.

"Behind here!"

They all crouched behind a blue pickup truck. Panting, Velma pulled out a water jug and passed it on to Shaggy.

"Thanks," he said, took a gulp and handed it on to Daphne.

She refused, "Logs me down."

But Fred was eager for a sip. "Why thanks, Daph…!"

Instead, she stretched passed him and right over to Scooby. "You thirsty, Scoob?"

Teeth chattering he shook his head.

"You ok?" she asked.

He just whimpered, crouched by their feet.

"I'm not," said Fred, adamantly.

She corked the jug and gave it back to Velma. "You'll live."

"This feels like Midsomer all over again," said Shaggy. "Just like, less hot."

Velma felt a raindrop. "Thank goodness for that."

Daphne peaked over the bed of the truck. "We need to find shelter. But not here. All these windows around us are busted."

"Then like, where?" Shaggy asked.

Fred poked his head over the truck too. "There!"

Velma scooted around to their side. "What are you looking at?"

"That huge brick building. The windows are all boarded up already."

"It's just an old museum. Looks like it's been closed for years," said Velma.

"Which means there probably haven't been any mutants wandering around in there," said Fred.

"That sounds ominously optimistic," Shaggy retorted. "But, I'm with ya. You ready, Scooby Doo?"

He still seemed on edge. "Ro-k."

Getting up, Shaggy noticed something in the driver's seat of the truck. He jumped. Scooby almost bolted.

The gang turned around.

"What's the matter?" asked Velma.

"Like there's somebody in there!" said Shaggy.

"Another corpse?" asked Daphne, shining her flashlight through the passenger window. "What the - ?"

Velma peaked inside. "A suit of armor?"

"Like," Shaggy gulped. "Anyone home?" He backed away to stick beside Scooby.

"What's a suit of armor doing out here in the middle of a ghost-town?"

Shaggy sniggered. So did Scooby. "Maybe he went out for the knight." Neither he nor the dog could resist cracking up a little. "Get it?"

The girls rolled their eyes.

"Come on, let's get out of here," said Daphne.

They broke into the abandoned museum as quietly as possible. And by quietly, both Daphne and Fred kicked down the front door and watched it smash against the marble floor with a bang.

"Well, that was subtle," said Velma, practically waiting to get attacked by creatures in earshot.

Daphne sighed. "Not the time for sarcasm." She pushed her hair back in a tired fashion.

Closing up the entrance behind them, the gang carefully ventured further into the main lobby. Dust coated the checkered floors while busts of famous explorers lined the walls on podiums.

"Welcome to the Gem of New Gate," read a banner hanging over the help desk. At the desk were maps for the County Museum. Velma picked one up and poured through the various exhibits, exits and floors.

"That's it? That's what it's called? Just the County Museum?" said Shaggy.

"You wanna phone the mayor and make a complaint?" Fred asked, studying the state of things.

"Sure. You think the dude speaks in moans or growls?" Shaggy asked, checking out a biplane on display. Scooby clung to his legs, his tail between his legs. His insecurity only put Shaggy further on edge.

Dozens of artifacts stood on display behind glass walls or on shelves seeming perfectly undisturbed. Fred even noted an odd lack of dust on the lobby's "welcome" counter.

"Wow, look at all this!" said Velma, as her eyes fell over an Ancient Egyptian pitcher. "It's from King Tut's tomb!"

Daphne sniggered. "Are you ever not a nerd?" She meant it as a joke, but her tired tone didn't sound very kind.

Velma simply turned away while fixing her glasses. Shaggy shot her a look.

Oblivious, Fred noted, "For a closed down museum, this is pretty well furnished,"

"Maybe it went bankrupt and everyone fled," said Shaggy.

"But they stayed behind to border up the doors and windows?" Fred asked.

"Who cares? Let's just secure an area and find a place to sleep," Daphne said followed by a huge awn.

"Hey if this place is so preserved, you think they got a stocked cafeteria?" Shaggy asked.

Scooby lit up. "I bet rhere is!"

"With actual food in it?"

The dog's tongue rolled out and he spun around. "Roh boy!"

"First, we make sure it's safe," Fred reminded them.

"Roger that!"

"But you're right, a cafeteria sounds pretty good right now," he admitted.

"Hey guys," said Daphne.

Everyone turned at the warning tone in her voice.

"This is all the fire power I have," she said, holding up her Glock.

Fred patted the pistol in his holster. "I have a few rounds."

"Shaggy and Velma?" Daphne asked, looking at them.

They shook their heads.

"Like, I got nothin'."

"I only grabbed my computer and some other necessities," Velma admitted.

Daphne sighed, looking so tired she almost aged ten years. Worry lines creased her otherwise smooth forehead.

"We'll make do," Fred assured her.

!

On their way to the cafeteria, Scooby and Shaggy paused.

"Does anyone get the feeling that we're being watched?" Shaggy asked.

"In here?" asked Daphne. "We scoured this place, there isn't a sign of mutant life anywhere."

"Yeah… this place is clean," said Fred, "and not just in terms of safety. It's actually really tidy in here."

"Well there's something weird about this County Museum. I just hope it doesn't make relics of us!" he said, eyes brazing over a mounted deer head on the wall.

A few seconds passed and Scooby stopped abruptly. He whipped around, ears rotating. "Rid you hear rhat?"

Shaggy wrung his hands together. "Like, no. What was it?"

The gang stared back the way they came. Daphne grew more irritated.

"Can we not do this right now?" she asked.

Nervous, Shaggy nodded and tried his best to ignore his thumping heart. Scooby clung beside him and kept his head ducked.

As soon as Fred and Daphne turned away, Velma touched Shaggy's arm. He started until he realized it was only her.

"I really think we'll be reasonably safe in here," she told him.

He met her eyes and allowed his pinched expression to relax.

"Ok," he said.  
Scooby nuzzled her hand.

Satisfied, she looked ahead… but not before catching sight of something dark looming in her peripherals.

Tall, standing at attention in black, armored plates and carrying a sword, it watched them from hidden corridor.

But when she turned her head to look, it was gone.

She whirled around in search of the strange apparition. Scooby released a high noted whine.

"You ok?" Shaggy asked.

"What? Yeah. Yeah. Everything is fine," she said.

 _Just fine._


End file.
